Bleeding Wounds and Healing Scars
by Sassy Lil Scorpio
Summary: It started with a spark. The Girl on Fire fanned the flames of revolution and changed the face of Panem forever. 100 fanfics from before, during, and after the events in The Hunger Games trilogy. Stories about trauma and resilience, love and hate, and life and death. A mix of drabbles, vignettes, and one-shots based on multiple Hunger Games characters. {LiveJournal Fanfic100.}
1. Beginnings

**Bleeding Wounds and Healing Scars**

 **A Hunger Games Fanfiction by Sassy Lil Scorpio**

 **Disclaimer:** The story and characters from _The Hunger Games_ trilogy are from the creative imagination of Suzanne Collins. This author makes no claim of ownership. No monetary gain is being made from this work.

 **Summary:** It all started with a spark. The Girl on Fire fanned the flames of revolution and changed the face of Panem forever. 100 fanfics from before, during, and after the events in The Hunger Games Trilogy. Stories about trauma and resilience, love and hate, and life and death. A mix of drabbles, vignettes, and one-shots. Based on the LiveJournal writing community Fanfic100.

 **Rating** : T

 **Author's Notes** : Fanfic100 is a Live Journal writing community. I chose _The Hunger Games_ because I wanted to write HG fanfiction, but was stuck on what to write about. There's so much I love about the books and movies, the story and characters. They're dark, beautiful, real, painful… Fanfic100 is one of many LiveJournal writing communities that got the creative juices flowing.

Some fics are written in the past tense, others in the present tense. I tried to get all the characters from the series into these fics, but I'm sure I missed some. The names of Katniss' and Peeta's son and daughter are based on what Suzanne Collins confirmed their names to be: Rye and Willow. My hope is that every fic in this collection gives justice to _The Hunger Games_.I also used some quotes from the trilogy and other source material which I'll be sure to give credit.

The word prompts from #96-#100 are "Writer's Choice." The first 95 words are from the "Big Damn Table" found on Fanfic100.

The fics in this collection are one-shots. Three fics are connected to each other: _#79 Where?_ , _#98 Forgive_ , and # _99 Regret_. However, the chronological order of the story being portrayed is _#99 Regret_ , _#98 Forgive_ , and # _79 Where_?. They can still be read as one-shots.

 **Dedication** : For my amazing god-daughter, Yonique. I'm so proud of all you are—intelligent, funny, athletic, strong, and so much more. You got me into **The Hunger Games** and I can't wait to take you to see **Mockingjay Part 2**.

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 **1.** **Beginnings**

 ** _The End is The Beginning_**

"Endings are beginnings," Plutarch tells Katniss in the hovercraft. "You'll see. The Hunger Games are a past horror, part of Panem's awful history. The war is over. All we can do is begin all over again."

Katniss casts him a long, weary look. After everything that's happened in Panem and all she's been through with the rebellion and the war, she has nothing to say to him. Even if she had the words to respond, she isn't sure she'd want to express them. How does one begin again when they have lost everything? Plutarch, always one to toss around cliché phrases including— " _beauty from the ashes_ " and " _look forward with hope, not backward with regret_ "— doesn't seem to grasp the impact of his words. At least, not in Katniss' view. He comes off trite and belittling and she's tired of hearing him. It's not until she returns home to District 12 that Plutarch's words take on significant meaning.

Relationships begin the healing process. She and Peeta start to mend their connection by spending time together.

One of Katniss' favorite times is when she lies down on the couch in the living room; the fireplace is lit and casting a beautiful reddish-orange glow on the walls. She watches Peeta as he mixes colors together and paints a portrait of Cinna, capturing the stylist's calm, yet calculating, expression. He is focused and solemn as he maneuvers the paintbrushes and paint across the canvas, transforming it into a beautiful memory of Cinna. Katniss stays up until dawn, watching Peeta paint the finishing touches. Peeta had returned to his home in Victors Village in the morning. One day, he doesn't return to his home. They retire to Katniss' room and they fall asleep in each other's arms. Peeta never returns to his home after that, except to gather his few belongings and place them in another room in Katniss' house.

Haymitch shows his face every now and then. He raises a flock of geese which helps keep his mind occupied. It's comical, and even sweet, to see Haymitch with a bottle in hand, shepherding a flock of geese. It's especially funny when they cross paths in District 12 and Katniss has to wait for the smallest one to catch up with the rest. _Little duck,_ she thinks to herself and it makes her smile because she is reminded of her pet name for Prim.

One day, Katniss goes into town and is surprised to see Greasy Sae in a small tent cooking wild dog stew along with other District 12 residents. A new Hob starts developing and a trade begins again. Katniss hunts now for the traders in the Hob and also for her, Peeta, and sometimes Haymitch.

Katniss speaks with her mother on the phone every few weeks. She hopes she can convince her mother to visit next summer and even considers taking a trip to District 4 to visit the new hospital Mrs. Everdeen has opened. It's just her and her mother now in the Everdeen family and they must try to stay close to each other even if there is physical and emotional distance between them.

When she sees the lone dandelion in the field one morning, Katniss is finally convinced these new beginnings will continue forward into a new life. She feels the reassurance of a new life with peace and tranquility, when she holds the delicate yellow dandelion in her hand. Katniss closes her eyes and remembers Plutarch's words, finally appreciating and understanding the full truth behind them:

 _"Endings are beginnings."_


	2. Middles

**2\. Middles **

**_Lose the Battle, Win the War_**

"Middles are everything," President Snow announces to his advisors in his mansion. "We're past the beginning and not yet at the end. We can still turn the tide on this war."

He is aware that District 2 has been conquered by the Rebels and yet, he still believes that the Capitol can win. They _will_ win this war. After all, they defeated the Districts during the Dark Days. This won't be any different. In fact, he thinks it's a great idea for the Rebels to believe they've made progress by aligning District 2 to their side.

"They've won the battle…but not the war." President Snow smiles and his snake-like eyes analyze his advisors. He sees them nodding in agreement…as they should, if they want to live…

"We will win," states Antonius.

"And when the Capitol is victorious as expected…" Snow says, grinning darkly, "the next Hunger Games will be remembered for generations to come."

Snow imagines pitting all the surviving Rebels, Plutarch Heavensbee, President Alma Coin, and of course, the grand prize of them all—the Mockingjay—into the most goriest and dangerous Hunger Games arena ever designed. No food, just weapons of all sorts. No mutts, just hand-to-hand combat.

Let the Rebels destroy themselves once and for all.


	3. Ends

**3\. Ends **

_**The Arena: Your Final Resting Place**_

" _Embrace the probability of your imminent death, and know in your heart that there's nothing I can do to save you."_

Haymitch Abernathy's words to Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen rang the absolute truth behind them. They were cold words holding a fearful reality. Words that echoed horrifying screams and the final beat of a dying heart. From the moment of their Reaping, to leaving their home District for the Capitol, to the Tribute Parade, to training and interviewing with Caesar Flickerman, and finally, to being launched into the arena…almost every tribute wondered how they would they meet their end.

It was one of those obvious unspoken things about the Games.

The Careers were the only tributes who weren't fazed at the possibility of "imminent death". They walked proudly into the Capitol, expecting to win the Games. Cato, for one, was determined he would be the last face that every tribute saw.

For the tributes' families, there was indescribable terror that they would watch their child getting slaughtered—and everyone in the nation of Panem would witness it. Some mentors blamed themselves for not teaching their tributes enough skills, suggestions, or tips for survival. Guilt, self-loathing, and sadness were intermingled. On rare occasions a mentor felt relief, especially if the tribute's death was swift and painless.

Haymitch had learned to numb himself. Alcohol was always helpful with this endeavor. He wouldn't allow himself to get too close to his tributes. It was beyond painful, year after year, seeing his tributes get killed in the arena. It was so much worse when the tribute appeared to take pleasure in doing the killing. No matter how many years had passed and how many Games he had mentored tributes, it broke his spirit every time. It pushed him to keep drinking so that he could try to put out ugly images in his mind of seeing his tribute's neck get slashed, or another tribute being forced underwater to drown. One time he wondered if this was being done on purpose for how he won his Games. As though killing his girlfriend and entire family wasn't sufficient punishment…

Sometimes he tried to rationalize the horrors he was forced to watch. Haymitch understood the tributes (regardless of which District they came from) wanted to put on a "good show" so they could get sponsors. Sponsors meant you could live a little longer. A pot of hot soup or cleansing cream for an infection could mean living to see another day and possibly winning the Games. At the end of the day, Haymitch didn't see it as "winning the Games"…it was about _surviving_ the Games.

Of course, the Capitol didn't differentiate between winning versus surviving the Games. It wasn't _their_ children being forced to participate in a fight to the death…And Careers were trained from a very young age about the Games, so being a Victor meant bringing pride to their District. Being bloodthirsty and aggressive were prized qualities and young children training in Career districts aspired to develop and hone these characteristics. Winning meant wealth on top of wealth. It meant the Capitol would continue to favor them…coddle them…

Haymitch knew from talking to other Victors—Chaff, Johanna, Seeder, Beetee, Finnick, Mags—that none of them felt like winners. He wanted to tell Katniss and Peeta during their first training that there were never winners in the Games, only survivors. _Not when you see the tribute you killed haunting your nightmares, pursuing you, forcing you to exchange places with them._ This thought ran rampant in his mind on repeat.

He just wanted them to survive so they could return home. Surviving didn't mean your life would be the same again. It just meant you could try to pick up the broken pieces after having gone through such a traumatic experience. It meant that maybe, after some time had passed, you could try to live a good life despite the nightmares, fears, and losses.

So when Haymitch told them to be aware that this trip to the Capitol was the beginning of the end for them, he felt he was being honest with them. There was no point in avoiding the truth, whitewashing or sugarcoating it, or building them up only to get struck down in the arena. Haymitch was hardened by the time he met them and although he knew it was impossible, he still wanted both Peeta and Katniss to survive the Games…he just had no way of knowing they would do exactly that.


	4. Insides

**4\. Insides**

 _ **What Lies Within Caesar Flickerman**_

No one watching him in the Districts, none of the Capitol's highest ranking officials or the bloodthirsty audience, and certainly not President Snow, are aware of what really goes on inside the mind and heart of Caesar Flickerman.

Caesar projects the persona of a charismatic interviewer for all of Panem to see. Behind his charming smile and gift of gab is a man who is deeply disturbed by his nation's favorite sport: forcing the District's children to fight against each other in a fight to the death. Punishment for the rebellion during the Dark Days. Is it really fair to spill innocent blood? Should today's youth face the consequences for the sins of their forefathers? Caesar questions the reasons for the Hunger Games in his mind, but he never voices it. He knows if he does, he will never have a voice again.

He'll be an Avox.

He interviews all twenty-four tributes for the Games every year and has an overwhelming sense of guilt for playing a role in this macabre tournament. Even though he tries to help them earn sponsors in his interviews, he is still a very integral part of the Hunger Games. He's still a cog in the Capitol machinery that churns out year after year of Games, arenas that become burial grounds, dead tributes, and a traumatized Victor.

When he returns to his penthouse suite each night from the Games, he doesn't bother to rewatch it. Providing commentary with Claudius Templesmith is more than enough the first time around. How many years, how many tributes, how many deaths…he has lost count. It twists him up inside each time a tribute is murdered for everyone to see, to celebrate, and to laugh about. There is no dignity…only humiliation, pain, and horror for the tribute, their family, and their District. He's seen it over and over again, so that in time, he learns to separate his inner self from his outer self.

On the outside, his brilliant smile matches his sparkling suits. The Capitol audience is dazzled by him. They get worked up about which color he'll choose to dye his hair. Trivial matters, but then again, the Capitol audience has time to waste. When they're not distracted about if he'll choose magenta or turquoise, they are placing bets on if District 5's male tribute will be able to take on District 9's tribute, will a Career win, or how many tributes will get slaughtered at the bloodbath at this year's Games.

It's not hard to ensure all the tributes shine in his interviews. Caesar is motivated to bring out the very best in all the tributes so that they have a fair chance to survive. Even so, he is tired of the whole game of meet-and-interview-a-tribute-watch-them-die-on-screen-highlight-the-Victor. He pushes himself to continue doing the work he's doing because the tributes need someone to bring out their strengths and give them a sliver of hope that maybe they'll return home. If he can help one tribute out in a tiny way, then he knows he did his duty.

And that's what keeps Caesar Flickerman going…knowing that on the inside, he is snubbing the Capitol by trying to help the tributes. It's his own silent rebellion and he's glad he is the only one who knows about it.

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 **Author's Note:** The title for this chapter is inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson's quote: _"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." **-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	5. Outsides

**5\. Outsides **

_**All That Glitters…**_

District 1 was known for having beautiful female tributes. Their names suggested attraction and charisma. _Glimmer. Cashmere._ Their beauty was a blessing and a curse. For no one saw or cared about their inner turmoil. Instead, their outer beauty was used against them. And it wasn't just the women who were targets...even male tributes from neighboring districts, such as Finnick Odair, were not exempt from being objectified and sold as prostitutes to the Capitol's citizens.

That's all the Capitol saw when it came to the Victors, especially those considered attractive. Their sleek, young, supple bodies could be groped and grabbed at all hours of the night. The highest ranking officials could bid on whichever Victor they wanted, express whatever lustful desire they had, and demand their sexual fantasies to be fulfilled. If the Victor didn't cooperate, then they were forced…It didn't matter how much it cost the Victor emotionally or physically. They were just sex toys to be exploited and discarded.

Cashmere acted out her role as sex goddess with such intensity that she managed to convince one Capitol citizen that she would do anything he wanted, no matter how degrading or humiliating. She knew to keep up appearances although she was dead inside. She only did it to keep her family alive. The last District 1 Victor who won the 67th Hunger Games—Charm—had refused President Snow's advances and propositions. The following week, Charm returned to her home in Victors Village to find the bodies of her parents and three younger siblings hanging from the ceiling, the rope pulled tightly around their broken necks. Charm committed suicide shortly after in the same manner.

Cashmere could never go past Charm's house without smelling the suffocating stench of death.

Since then, Cashmere had mixed feelings for the tributes she mentored. During the 74th Hunger Games, Cashmere knew President Snow was eyeing Glimmer even before the Games had begun. Right after the Tribute Parade, he made an appearance in District 1's quarters. He acknowledged Marvel briefly, but it became obvious his main target was Glimmer.

"Your beauty is to be envied and desired," Snow told Glimmer as his sharp eyes wandered all over her young body.

Glimmer had no awareness of the true meaning behind Snow's words. She flashed a winning smile and ran a hand through her cascading blonde hair. "It's my best asset," she said in a genuine effort to please him.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

Snow nodded slowly. Cashmere noticed the steely glint in his eyes. "Young and ripe."

Glimmer brightened even more. "I'll get sponsors," she said, confidently.

Snow suddenly became cold. "That remains to be seen, Glimmer. I want to thank you for your courage and sacrifice in competing in the Games this year." He headed towards the door and turned around one last time. "And may the odds be ever in _your_ favor."

When he left, Marvel had a bewildered expression on his face and Glimmer was radiant from the attention the Capitol president gave her. Cashmere remembered the worried look in Gloss' eyes. Both Careers knew what Snow was implying with his underhanded compliments. They didn't have to be concerned about Marvel—it was Glimmer they had to protect. The young girl had no idea that President Snow already wanted to sell her body to the Capitol's citizens. He was already banking on her winning the Games so that he could serve her to the highest bidder with the sickest appetite.

If she won her Games, she would be forced into the same predicament that Cashmere had endured over the years…

So Cashmere was outwardly upset, but inwardly relieved when she saw Glimmer attacked by the swarm of tracker jackers. It was a horrible way to die: blindsided by frightening hallucinations, the numerous stings leading to an excruciating death. Cashmere didn't want Glimmer to suffer a terrible and painful death, but if she lived to win the Games, the prospect was far worse. Cashmere kept that thought to herself. She didn't even reveal it to Gloss because she didn't want to imagine how he would respond. They were Career tributes after all and had to maintain a tough façade. She wouldn't want to give the Capitol the pleasure of pitting sister against brother.

At the same time, she knew Gloss understood that outer appearances were everything. When the Third Quarter Quell was announced and Cashmere was reaped a second time, she knew to flash a bright smile for the camera and hold Gloss' hand in unison to present themselves as the ideal brother and sister team. Her instincts guided her when she had her interview with Caesar Flickerman. She shed some tears and made it sound as though the Capitol would miss twenty-three Victors.

Under her tears, Cashmere's heart was pounding with rage at that she was forced to return to the arena. She couldn't reveal her anger, although she admired Johanna Mason for doing so when it was her turn to be interviewed. Cashmere knew exactly how to manipulate the shallow Capitol audience. They were attuned to her outer appearance—her glittering smiles, her voluptuous body, her crocodile tears—and had no inkling of the deep contempt she felt for each and every one of them.

For Cashmere, this was the only Game that she had ever truly won…


	6. Hours

**6\. Hours **

_**What a Difference a Day Makes…Twenty-Four Little Hours**_

Marvel wonders how long it will take for Katniss to figure out that he and his fellow Careers have captured Rue. He imagines Katniss wandering around the arena for hours on end. He realizes Katniss will discover what's happened to Rue when the District 11 tribute starts screaming for her ally.

"Katniss! Katniss!" Rue yells with tears choking her voice. Her hands grab desperately at the net that entangles her.

"Katniss!" Marvel mimics, taunting Rue. He stands over her and stomps on her hand that grabs the net. When Rue whimpers in pain, Marvel busts out laughing. The whole situation is sure to bring him sponsors. Because he's going to kill two Mockingjays with one stone—or spear.

Marvel grins as he hears The Girl on Fire running towards them. He readies his spear and imagines the booming cannon in his mind, celebrating triumph before it has happened. Katniss Everdeen will be _his_ kill. He could avenge Glimmer—or better yet, he will show Cato and Clove that District 1 is superior to District 2, even if they're all Careers.

Unfortunately for Marvel, his end comes as Katniss shoots an arrow in his neck at the same exact time he spears Rue…

…Twenty-four hours later, Marvel's body is embalmed, dressed, and shipped back to his home in District 1 in a wooden casket. A single white rose, courtesy of President Snow, is enclosed in Marvel's cold hands. His grieving parents are left alone in District 1 to mourn the loss of their son to the Hunger Games…

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 **Author's Notes:** The title for this ficlet is taken from the song "What a Diff'rence a Day Makes" by Dinah Washington. _**-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	7. Days

**7\. Days**

 _ **Time Will Not Heal These Wounds**_

Annie Cresta's Games ended two days ago and already the night terrors are beginning. What she sees when she goes to sleep is far worse than a nightmare.

She closes her eyes to try to sleep and sees her district partner, Kai, being held down by Career tributes from District 1. District 2's male tribute approaches him with an axe, an insane grin plastered across his face. She doesn't remember their names although their cruel grins are plastered in her memory forever. The night terror is so vivid that she believes she's back in the arena again. She can hear Kai shouting for help as he struggles against his captors. Tremors cause his voice to shake as he is unable to mask his terror. He knows his death is imminent and she wants to run out there to help him, rescue him, save him…but to do so would mean her own demise. Annie is full of guilt and self-hatred for her perceived weakness. She convinces herself that he would understand.

 _He knows I can't…that I would if…_ her broken thoughts are always interrupted by the swift sound of an axe coming down and making contact with human skin. A piercing scream is cut short followed by a loud _thump_ that churns Annie's stomach. Then she hears chilling laughter so hideous and monstrous that it can't come from any human being with a conscience. She's terrified that she'll see Kai's decapitated head on the ground. What if she sees his dead eyes staring at her, accusing her of abandoning him when he needed her most? In some night terrors, his head rolls over to where she's hiding and she accidentally steps on his face. That's when she starts yelling and kicking.

Five days after her Games, Annie finds that being awake isn't any better. The slightest sounds trigger her—a pencil being snapped in half resounds in her mind as a bone breaking, footsteps bring back memories of the Careers who were very close to her hiding place and how they almost found her after Kai's murder, a person singing off-key sounds like a strained scream. An overwhelming sense of dread fills her she sees groups of people walking behind an individual. Her fear is that the individual will be overtaken just as Kai was—unexpected and without a chance to defend himself. And that she won't be able to do anything about it.

As time goes on, Annie learns what her triggers are and how to block them out. Sometimes she puts her hands over her ears so that she won't hear Kai's screams on repeat. Other times, she retreats into herself—she finds a point in the surrounding area to focus on until the flashbacks and triggers pass. On rare occasions, she will pull up a memory in her mind that is positive or happy, that helps her to laugh. Finnick's confident swagger, his ability to make turn an ugly mess into beauty, and his sincerity give her hope and help her to smile again. The laughter calms her down, although to those around her, it comes at inappropriate times. Finnick understands her need to laugh, even if it happens at the strangest times. By the time Annie's Victory Tour is about to begin, she is able to manage herself as much as she can, given the tragic circumstances she endured in the 70th Hunger Games.


	8. Weeks

**8\. Weeks**

 _ **Two Weeks**_

It only took a matter of weeks for Haymitch's world to be turned upside-down, his entire life forever changed.

It started at the Reaping for the Second Quarter Quell. When the Capitol announced they would reap twice as many tributes, Haymitch didn't overthink it. Then his name was called and soon he was whisked away to the Capitol to dress in fancy clothing he would never wear again and consume delicious food he would never eat again. It was wasteful and pathetic.

Haymitch never participated too heavily in the training. It sickened him that he was being taught to kill the other tributes, and that they in turn, were being trained to kill _him_. The interviews were another waste of time in Haymitch's eyes and he didn't try too hard to impress the audience. He didn't put faith in the Capitol citizens to sponsor him. Why should he believe in them when they were looking forward to seeing him get killed on national television? It didn't matter how much his mentor, Flint, tried to convince him to gain sponsors. Haymitch wouldn't hear any of it. The grand finale of being launched into the arena for all of Panem to see was in the back of his mind, a reality that he couldn't ignore.

Haymitch hated every minute of it, but he was determined to survive. During those sleepless nights in the Tribute Center, he tried not to imagine the worried expressions on his parents' faces or his girlfriend's eyes filled with tears when the District 12 escort plucked his name from the reaping bowl. He couldn't dwell on their fear that he wouldn't return, otherwise it would distract him from what he had to do—and it didn't involve killing the other tributes.

He had to stay alive.

If he could survive his Games, if he could walk out of the arena without shedding anyone's blood, then he would be forever grateful because it meant he was able to still hold onto his life with some integrity. He knew it was very likely that he would end up killing a tribute, but he didn't want to go that route if he didn't have to. It was all about surviving. This became his mantra for him during his Games and it would be the very same one he would share with all his future tributes.

 _Stay alive…_

And stay alive he did. It didn't go unnoticed by the Capitol that he discovered their precious secret about the forcefield. Using it to his advantage only increased their fury. Giving Maysilee a peaceful death further showed them that Haymitch Abernathy was not playing their game of pitting the tributes against each other. Holding Maysilee's hand, feeling her quivering body go still in death made him realize the importance of who the real enemy was. It wasn't Maysilee or the other tributes he ended up killing. It was the Capitol and he would defy them by surviving these ridiculous Games.

Haymitch knew what he had to do when facing the Career tribute, Dazzle. It was the very end of the Games and it was either him or her going home. He tried to blind Dazzle by slicing out her eye, but she was really good with that axe. If she was successful in wielding that axe a second time, he would never return home alive. He knew it wasn't going to be him sent home in a wooden box… He felt no hatred towards Dazzle when he ducked to avoid the axe that she flung in his direction…but he was overwhelmed with remorse when he heard the horrible crunching sound of it burying itself in her skull. It was an awful sound that would haunt him forever.

He was thrilled to return home to his family, to walk around the Hob with his girlfriend, Ivy. It was great to be out of that horrible arena and far away from the disgusting Capitol that enjoyed watching him fight for his life. He made sure to spend time with those he loved because he had almost lost them the moment he had been reaped for the Quarter Quell…

Then one day he came home to a tomb.

He had returned from taking care of his neighbor's geese in the Seam and went back to Victor's Village to the home he shared with his parents and Ivy. Silence greeted him when he knocked on the door. When he finally got inside; he saw why nobody had answered.

There was no one alive to respond to him.

Hanging from the ceiling were his parents and Ivy, their limp dead bodies swaying gently. Whoever had killed them had wanted Haymitch to walk in and find this grisly sight. Pinned to their clothes was a pristine white rose which answered his question of who was behind their murders.

Haymitch remembered President Snow congratulating him on an "unprecedented victory in the history of the Hunger Games". He was the first Victor to outlive forty-seven tributes. Haymitch didn't take pride in it. There was no reason to be proud. He didn't win a game—he survived a kill-or-be-killed tragedy. It was _how_ he survived that had provoked President Snow's wrath…Haymitch knew this from the way President Snow's eyes sparked when he talked about "using the surrounding resources in the arena to your advantage." Haymitch didn't know at the time that at the exact moment he found a way to survive the Games, he had unintentionally put his parents' lives and Ivy's life in danger.

It had only been two weeks since he had survived the arena. Two weeks after Haymitch was crowned victor and he lost everything in his world, everyone whom he ever loved. He almost lost his will to keep going, to survive. He couldn't do it. Eventually he found a way to ease the pain. When he drank, he could block out the numbing pain of losing his girlfriend and family. He learned to sleep with a knife in his hand so that if anyone from the Capitol thought they could come and murder him the way they did to his parents and Ivy, he would kill them first. It would be like that from now on. He would do anything to have those two weeks back, but going backwards was impossible. There was one way to trudge into his uncertain future: his mantra crossed his mind:

 _Stay alive…_

He had to alive for his sake. For his parents' sake, for Ivy's, for Maysilee's and for the future tributes he would mentor. He would stay alive for them. He had to. It's just every year of the Games, he would remember that from the moment he had been reaped to finding out he was alone in this world forever with no family or girlfriend…it had only been a matter of weeks…


	9. Months

**9\. Months **

**_The Reconstruction of Panem_**

"Commander Paylor, it is now my honor to call you _President_ Paylor from this day forward," Plutarch Heavensbee told the young woman from District 8 as they sat across from each other in President Snow's former meeting room.

President Paylor was speechless as she looked directly at the new Secretary of Communications, Plutarch Heavensbee.

"Do you think you can handle the duties and responsibility of being the new President of Panem?" He asked, a wry smile on his face.

Paylor didn't smile back. "I can handle it." Her voice was firm, her expression serious and thoughtful.

President Paylor was victorious in an emergency election where she had competed against the other District leaders. Thankfully, it was a democratic election. It wasn't a horrible fight to the death like the Hunger Games. It was as fair as could be, given the violent and chaotic circumstances that had preceded it.

Katniss had assassinated Coin in front of the entire nation. The arrow had originally been meant for Snow. Paylor had watched the camera images multiple times and knew Katniss' aim was not an accident or coincidence. There was talk about bringing her to trial, but Paylor already planned to pardon her. She had already sent the girl to her home in District 12 with her mentor, Haymitch, for her safety. In the Capitol, Katniss would be a target for any Capitol loyalist embittered from losing the war. Katniss Everdeen had sacrificed so much for the revolution, for Panem as a nation—and yet, she had lost everything—her sister, her reason to live, her soul, her peace…

Paylor sincerely hoped that Katniss would be able to heal from all the pain and trauma that had been thrust upon her from the moment she volunteered in Prim's place. She had witnessed and experienced unbelievable horrors and losses at such a young age, more than what most people see in their entire lifetime. Paylor understood healing as a process and not an event. For Katniss, her healing and grief would probably continue for the duration of her life. Paylor could understand and appreciate that. It's why she wasn't in a rush to execute Katniss despite what other District rebel leaders said about the young teenager known throughout all of Panem as "The Girl on Fire" and "The Mockingjay"—all labels and identities that had been thrust upon Katniss Everdeen, when in reality, she was a young girl forced to think and act like an adult because of the violent world she lived in.

Paylor had strong instincts as to _why_ Katniss fired her arrow at Coin's heart and not Snow…after all, she had permitted Katniss to speak with Snow in his greenhouse and had asked if she had found what she was looking for… However, she knew this was not the time to discuss these matters.

What President Paylor needed to focus on was bringing necessary change to Panem that was long overdue. Seventy-five years of the Districts being violently oppressed and the Capitol's affluence would take immense time, effort, and hard work to change. The war-torn Panem was in shambles. Thousands of citizens from both the Districts and Capitol were dead. Some rebels screamed for more bloodshed. Capitol citizens were terrified. Hundreds of people from both sides were wounded, homeless, starving. President Paylor had a lot of work on her hands. _First, we have to stop thinking of each other as the enemy, and start seeing ourselves as a united nation,_ she thought. _No more 'sides' and enough of this Capitol vs. District nonsense._

"Are you ready to be sworn in, President Paylor?" Plutarch asked, interrupting her thoughts. "We will begin the inauguration within the hour. I've already drafted a Treaty of Friendship to begin as a starting point to uniting the Districts and the Capitol." He held up a document.

Paylor nodded, pleased that she and Plutarch were on the same wavelength. "That's a very good start." She still had to adjust to her new title as _President Paylor_. A short time later, she was sworn in.

 _"I, Paylor, with the People of Panem bearing witness, will uphold, defend, and respect the Treaty of Friendship; faithfully discharging the duties of my office to the best of my ability, with charity towards all and malice towards none. I, Paylor, promise to do all within my human power to further peace, justice, and democracy; indeed ensuring the safety and protection of the Capitol and each and every District, and for both the Capitol and Districts to be treated equally and fairly, and that Panem remains united today, tomorrow, and forever. This I do solemnly swear."_

Within the first week of her term, President Paylor issued her first executive order: abolish the Hunger Games forever. Just as the Capitol's highest officials signed a decree declaring the Hunger Games to be an annual event seventy-five years ago, President Paylor signed a decree forever eliminating the Games. Paylor didn't stop there. She ensured the destruction of all seventy-five arenas and memorials were erected to honor every tribute who had been reaped, killed, or survived. She was present when every arena was being destroyed and requested for Pollux and Cressida to document their demolition as part of Panem's history. The memorials were immediately put in place of the arenas.

In the months after her election, President Paylor began the immense task of bridging the relationships between the Capitol and the Districts. Each District had to nominate an ambassador to represent them. The Capitol also had to nominate an ambassador to work with each District. Altogether, there were twenty-six ambassadors, known as the President's Cabinet. Once a month, the ambassadors would meet in each District. For the first month, January, the meeting would be in District 1, in February the meeting would take place in District 2, and so on. Halfway through the year, all District ambassadors would meet once in the Capitol. District 13 would also be involved. The ambassadors from the Capitol would work together with their corresponding District ambassador they had been assigned to, so that they could review what each District needed.

Plutarch and President Paylor, along with the President Cabinet, started devising a new political system in Panem. One that would involve checks and balances to ensure that President Paylor and future presidents wouldn't have too much power as previous presidents had. This included a three year presidential term. When Plutarch suggested drafting a constitution for Panem, to ensure the rights of all the country's citizens, President Paylor is in full agreement. She gave a presidential address on television that night so that all Panem's citizens are aware of the political changes being brought to the country.

Several months into her presidency, Paylor is satisfied to see Panem make strides to truly become one united nation. The President's Cabinet Members continue to brainstorm different ideas with President Paylor to encourage the cooperation and unity between the Capitol and the Districts. Although the Hunger Games were part of Panem's awful history, President Paylor is determined that that is exactly where the Hunger Games will remain: in the past and as a hard-earned lesson that forced violence on the youth of the nation will never bring about peace; only war, rebellion, destruction, and countless lives lost in its wake.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** The film "The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 2" has a part in the end where Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch watch as Paylor is sworn in as President, however, I didn't remember the entire oath. So after some researching online, I came across a Wikipedia entry called "President of Panem" where it has an oath that I used for this ficlet. I made some changes to it and am giving credit where it's due. I also suggest for Hunger Games' fans to check out this site, as it was very interesting in detailing the politics of Panem. I'm not sure if it's canon from Suzanne Collins, but it's definitely worth a read: iiwiki wiki/ President_of_Panem . Thank you for your continued readership! _**-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	10. Years

**10\. Years **

_**Year In and Year Out, Same Story...Different Ending?**_

The Capitol and Districts of Panem had witnessed seventy-three years of Hunger Games. Seventy-three years of mindless slaughter to entertain the Capitol masses. Seventy-three Victors for the Capitol to adore and admire. Seventy-three years of successfully maintaining division between the Districts.

Twenty-four tributes reaped and in the case of the Second Quarter Quell, forty-eight tributes were reaped. Tributes were killed in the arena in countless and imaginative ways. The Gamesmakers were always devising new thrilling techniques to pit the tributes against each other. Seventy-three years of bloodbaths and feasts at the Cornucopia. Beaten, beheaded, bludgeoned, choked, electrocuted, strangled, stabbed, or drowned by fellow tributes. Devoured by mutts. Scorched by unbearable heat. Frozen to death by subzero temperatures. Poisoned by innocent looking nightlock and other plants in the arena.

Every year, the same morbid tournament held over and over again. Innocent blood spilled. Families torn apart. Traumatized Victors forced to train new tributes to help them survive or prepare them for their imminent deaths with the entire nation watching. Very few people in the Districts believed the Hunger Games would stop. It would never change. It would always be this way…

President Snow recalled watching the Hunger Games when he was sixteen years old, around the time of the 13th Hunger Games. In all the decades he had been watching, he had never seen anyone like Katniss Everdeen. He knew immediately that she posed a threat to the control the Capitol exercised over the Districts. Tributes that showed any resistance during their Games or after their victory in the arena—such as Johanna Mason and Haymitch Abernathy—were quickly squashed. They had to be kept in line before the Districts got the notion that rebellion was at best, acceptable, and at worst, a real possibility…

The same had to be done to Katniss Everdeen, especially since President Coriolanus Snow intended for the Hunger Games to be a Panem tradition continued for generations to come, even after his reign is over. He wanted to instill terror in the Districts for the next twenty-five years, fifty years, seventy-five years, one hundred years…and even though he knew he would never live to see it, if Panem still held the Hunger Games for a millennia, then all the better for the Capitol.


	11. Red

**11\. Red **

_**Blood Red**_

Johanna Mason, Blight, Wiress, and Beetee wandered around through the thick foliage hours after the bloodbath had ended. Johanna turned around once and saw Blight helping Beetee. She smiled grimly: she and Blight had managed to get Beetee out of the Cornucopia just in time. Beetee had gotten the spool of wire and he had grabbed Wiress to ensure her safety. They had left just as the Career pack took over. Johanna didn't want to fight with them unless absolutely necessary. She remembered her agreement with Haymitch to locate Katniss, Peeta, Mags, and Finnick. Haymitch had planned with Finnick and Mags for them to help lead Katniss and Peeta away from the bloodbath. Then Johanna and her group would find them after. _We'll find them later, right now we need water,_ Johanna thought, noting the dryness of her throat.

"Hey guys, are you thirsty or what?" Johanna called to her allies. She tried to take deep breaths, but it was getting difficult to do so. Her heart started beating rapidly. _Damn palpitations,_ she thought.

Blight nodded slightly. "We need something…anything."

"We need water," Beetee answered. "This jungle canopy hasn't helped to shield us from the heat. We're running out of time. I don't know how much longer we can last like this."

At the exact instant Beetee said "time", a loud noise resounded like a gong in the arena. There was a slight pause and the sound came again. The sound continued ten more times, altogether twelve.

Johanna stopped and noticed that Beetee and Blight had also heard it. They were looking all around them, trying to figure out the source. Wiress was walking around in circles by herself, preoccupied with her own thoughts.

"What's that?" Blight asked.

Wiress was mouthing words, but not speaking them aloud. Johanna went straight to her.

"What is it, Nuts?"

Wiress continued to mouth words in silence. Then a quirky grin lit up her features, she rocked back and forth, and began to sing:

" _Hickory Hickory, dickory, dock,  
The mouse ran up the clock.  
The clock struck one,  
The mouse ran down,  
Hickory, dickory, dock!"_

Johanna shook her head, annoyed. The slight movement made her dizzy. "Tell me what it means—I didn't ask you to sing me a nursery rhyme!"

Wiress sang the verse a second time. This time, she sounded frantic.

Johanna threw up her arms in frustration. "She's all yours, Volts."

Beetee came forward and was about to respond to Johanna when suddenly he heard thunder rumbling. He looked up and saw dark thunderclouds circling right above them.

"Maybe now we'll get some water," he said.

Blight looked up at the sky and pointed nearby. "Look at that!"

Behind the group, a very tall tree was being struck by lightning—repeatedly. It happened so many times that Beetee started to wonder how real or artificial it was. They were in a man-made arena after all, and the Gamemakers loved putting in twists to fool the tributes. Beetee had experienced it himself in his Games and had seen it year after year when he mentored tributes. The loud boom of thunder crashed above them and then rain started to fall. Wiress raised her hands to the rain and began to sing again.

" _Oh, where do you come from,  
You little drops of rain,  
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter,  
Down the window-pane?_

 _They won't let me walk,  
They won't let me play,  
And they won't let me go  
Out of doors at all today._

 _They put away my playthings  
Because I broke them all,  
And then they locked up all my bricks,  
And took away my ball."_

Beetee smiled sadly. He understood Wiress was communicating to them about the rain and knew singing nursery rhymes or poems was her way of expressing ideas. He didn't expect Blight or Johanna to understand or appreciate it. It was what he loved and cherished about Wiress. It was also the very same thing that caused Johanna to get frustrated with her.

"Keep singing your nursery rhymes about the rain," Johanna said, rolling her eyes. "I'll drink it all up and leave none for you."

Beetee watched as Johanna looked up at the sky and opened her mouth to receive the rain. It came down in small drops at first, and then crashed down hard and fast—a torrential downpour. He was about to imitate her actions to quench his thirst and end the beginning of dehydration when he saw she spat it out right away.

"Ugh!" Johanna wiped her mouth. "Don't drink it! It's—"

" _Red! Red! Red!_ " chanted Wiress.

Beetee watched Wiress wipe her face quickly as more rain came down. He noticed the odd color of the rain and his eyes widened behind his glasses in total surprise. True to Wiress' words, the rain was red.

Blood red.

"This isn't rain," Beetee started to say and he suddenly gagged. The rain was coming down so quickly that it streamed into his mouth when he spoke. He coughed, feeling the hot stickiness of the blood rain run down his throat. "It's blood! We have to take cover!" He shouted as best he could and ran over to Wiress. "Come on!"

Johanna waved her hands around, trying to find Beetee and Wiress. The blood rain came down faster, she could feel its hotness stinging her body though the tribute uniform. She felt a hand grab her and tug her forward. It was Beetee who was guiding her to find cover under a large tree. The blood rain kept falling; it wasn't showing signs of slowing down. She huddled with Beetee and Wiress, trying to keep calm. The blood rain was so thick and heavy, it was difficult to see in front of her. She felt relieved that she was safe with her allies when suddenly she realized Blight wasn't with them.

"Where's Blight?!"

Beetee squinted at Johanna, unable to hear her over the pounding of the rain. "Come again?"

"Where's Blight?!" Johanna looked over her shoulder, frantic to find her district partner. "He was with us just before the rain."

Beetee heard shouting nearby. _"Johanna! Beetee! Wiress!"_ He and Johanna faced each other at the same time, barely able to make out each other's face in the blood rain that was pouring down in sheets.

"Blight!" They shouted at the same time.

Beetee gently knelt Wiress down to the ground. He tried to make sure she had shelter under the bushes to protect her from the blood rain. It was impossible to completely avoid it. "Stay here. Johanna and I are going to find Blight."

Wiress nodded and continued to sing in a hushed tone about where raindrops came from.

Beetee and Johanna quickly ran around the area, searching for Blight, but he was nowhere to be found. They called out to him and waited. After a moment, they heard a response.

"Johanna!" Blight sounded closer this time.

"Almost there, come on!" Johanna answered.

Beetee was about to yell out Blight's name in the hopes that Blight would hear them nearby. At that instant, a streak of a man ran past them, waving his arms around. Beetee saw the tribute was completely drenched in the blood rain. Johanna saw him too and started after him, when Beetee pulled her back in the nick of time. The ear-shattering crackle of electricity came first, followed by silver and gold sparks flying all around. Then Blight's body went flying midair and crashed to the ground several feet away from them. They slowly approached Blight's crumpled form.

Beetee shook his head. "Force field," he muttered.

Johanna knelt down next to Blight's still body. She sighed heavily, looking up at Beetee. Beetee met her eyes that had watered with unshed tears. Blood was smeared across her face, but she didn't seem to notice or care. She bowed her head down in private mourning for Blight. The blood rain continued to drum down on them.

Beetee stepped back to give Johanna privacy. He heard the sound of someone approaching them. The person was being careful as though they knew what had just happened to Blight. Beetee was able to make out Wiress through the blood rain. Wiress' eyes were wide with panic as she stared at Johanna sitting next to Blight, holding his hand. Then she began to sing softly:

" _Who killed Cock Robin?  
_ _I, said the_ _Sparrow,  
_ _with my bow and arrow,  
_ _I killed Cock Robin._

 _Who saw him die?  
_ _I, said the_ _Fly,  
_ _with my little eye,  
_ _I saw him die._

 _Who caught his blood?  
_ _I, said the_ _Fish,  
_ _with my little dish,  
_ _I caught his blood._

 _Who'll make the shroud?  
_ _I, said the_ _Beetle,  
_ _with my thread and needle,  
_ _I'll make the shroud._

 _Who'll dig his grave?  
_ _I, said the_ _Owl,  
_ _with my little trowel,  
_ _I'll dig his grave—"_

"SHUT UP!" Johanna roared. Angry tears poured down her face and mixed with the blood. "Get her out of here, Volts, before I slam my axe into her skull!"

Beetee didn't reply as he guided Wiress away from Johanna and Blight's corpse. He understood Johanna needed her time alone to grieve for Blight before the hovercraft came to remove his body. As he moved Wiress away from their allies, Beetee observed the length of Wiress' singing had increased. He thought to ask her about it.

"Your rhymes, they are—"

"Getting longer," Wiress finished for him.

"What's the meaning behind that?" Beetee asked. He waited for an answer as Wiress looked up at the blood rain coming down. Her face soon became a bright red mask. "Don't do that," he said gently, willing her to face him and wiping the blood off her skin.

Wiress stared at him and swallowed thickly. Then she turned to the side and spat a glob of blood. When she looked at Beetee again, she only offered up a two word phrase: "Tick tock."

Beetee's eyebrows knitted together, puzzled and curious by what she meant. "Tick tock?"

Wiress nodded. "Tick tock."

Beetee released her and watched as she started walking around in a circle again. Wiress was still walking around in a circle by herself when Johanna rejoined them.

"I'm sorry about Blight," Beetee offered. He truly was.

Johanna shrugged. "It is what it is. Let's get out of here and find the beach. Get this blood off us."

Beetee agreed and began to follow her. "Is he still there?"

"Hovercraft got him." Johanna started walking through the jungle. This time she ignored the blood rain. It seemed to be getting lighter as they went on.

Beetee nodded and watched Wiress as she spun around wildly.

"Tick tock!" she shrieked; a wide smile on her face that didn't light up her eyes.

"Yes, Wiress…tick tock," Beetee agreed as he took Wiress' hand and followed after Johanna.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** "Hickory Dickory Dock" is a famous nursery rhyme. The nursery rhyme and poem that Wiress recites are "Little Rain Drops" and "Who Killed Cock Robin?" respectively. The full versions can be found online. Thank you for reading! _**-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	12. Orange

**12\. Orange **

_**Sunset Orange**_

Peeta adores sunset orange. He loves painting the gorgeous color across a blank canvas and mixing the paints together to get the right shade. A blob of red, a smattering of yellow, and with the right amount of white and black mixed in; he can get the orange to reflect the extraordinary beauty of a sunset. Something about the color makes him feel calm. Mellow. Like all is right in the world.

Several months after the war has ended, he and Katniss are trying to patch up the torn tatters of their connection. He's not sure what to call their bond and in the end, labels don't matter. Peeta just knows he's loved Katniss for as long as he can remember and he is glad her love for him is real. They had triumphed against all the odds. They survived the war together, just as they had when they were in the Games. Peeta is determined to grow together with Katniss again and he is pleasantly surprised that Katniss is just as determined on healing their spirits and mending their bond.

One day, Katniss shows up in his kitchen. She's holding a dead rabbit and a handful of edible plants. He knows she's finished hunting and gathering for the day.

"Hey Katniss," Peeta says as he continues to knead dough.

"Put the bread in the oven to bake. I have something to show you."

"What is it?"

"I'm not telling you, Peeta. You have to see it for yourself."

Peeta looks up and sees a faint smile on Katniss' face. He grins as he thinks about how much he appreciates it when she has that enigmatic expression. It's like Katniss wants to smile and not smile at the same time, and isn't certain what she really thinks and feels. Then her emotions win out and it shows across her face, whether she realizes it or not. It's one of many things he treasures about her.

He finishes kneading the bread and places it in the oven to bake. Within a few hours, he will be sharing a meal with Katniss consisting of cooked rabbit garnished with greens, warm bread and butter on the side. It's these simple moments together that help him to know they can rebuild their lives after all the losses they've experienced.

"So what do you want to show me?" He asks, taking off his apron. "Rabbit entrails?" He gestures to the rabbit and laughs.

"No, something even better." Katniss points upward. "We have to go to the rooftop to see it."

Peeta shrugs and follows her to the rooftop. He can see the entire Victors Village, the meadow that is slowly becoming green again, and the Hob being reconstructed by a handful of District 12 residents. All these sights bring hope to Peeta. District 12 is slowly coming to life again. It may even thrive after some time.

What really captures Peeta's attention is the most incredible sight he has seen in a long time. The sun is a golden globe midway through the sky as it slowly sets for the day. The sky is lit up in a dazzling mix of soft oranges highlighted by streaks of yellow and red. The brilliant light and dark hues play against the clouds, illuminating nature's beauty.

"Sunset orange," he says quietly.

"It's your favorite color," Katniss says.

They say nothing else as they enjoy the sight of the sun dipping down towards the horizon. She rests her head on his shoulder and he places his arm protectively around her. Peeta is overwhelmed with the same peace he feels when he paints sunset orange. He closes his eyes, finds Katniss' hand, and thinks to himself: _all is right in the world…_


	13. Yellow

**13\. Yellow **

_**"Lellow" - The Brightest Hope**_

The significance of the color yellow doesn't escape Katniss and seems to follow her wherever she goes.

During a walk to the Hob, Katniss finds patches of buttercup flowers. She gathers them up and places them in a vase in Prim's honor. Katniss will always consider the yellow dandelion as a symbol of rebirth, new life, and hope. She imagines having a yard full of yellow dandelions and buttercups and knows Prim would be proud. It occurs to her to ask Peeta to help her plant a garden of buttercup flowers, since he already planted primrose.

Katniss smiles at his response: "Tell me when and we'll get started."

The following week, she and Peeta begin growing a garden of buttercup flowers. She remembers telling Peeta that green was her favorite color. She was telling Peeta the truth.

Now that the war is over and she is adjusting to the new way of living life without Prim, she decides that yellow is her _second_ favorite color. It's a way for Katniss to incorporate Prim into her life in a way that keeps her memory alive. Prim's favorite color was yellow and Katniss is reminded of her whenever she sees its brightness. She thinks of Prim's love for Buttercup and why she named the feisty cat after that particular flower. The buttercup flower, which is bright yellow, is similar to Katniss' love for dandelions in the spring. Even Prim's namesake— _primrose_ —is named after a budding yellow flower.

Other memories associated with the color yellow come to Katniss' mind. She remembers teaching Prim different colors when she was eight years old and Prim was four years old. Prim was able to match her colors and pronounce them by name. Katniss helped her to associate the colors with different objects:

Taking her outside on a warm sunny day, Katniss had pointed at the sky. "What color is the sky, Prim?"

"Blue."

Katniss then took Prim into the woods one day. Prim had followed after her older sister, eager to please and open to learning. Katniss had stopped in front of a lush green bush. "What about this color?"

Prim smiled. "Green." She crouched down and scooped up warm dirt. "Brown."

Another time, Katniss had shot an arrow at a cardinal. The bird had died instantly and lay on the forest ground, completely still. Prim couldn't stop crying and Katniss didn't want to push her sister any further that day. Through her tears, Prim struggled to point out the redness of the cardinal's feathers and blood.

And so it went on, with Katniss teaching Prim other colors: _white, black, purple, orange…_ For some reason though, Prim got stumped on the color yellow. She was able to identify it easily, but pronouncing the "y" part was difficult for her. Prim had grabbed Buttercup and ran around their home shouting out the color with pride: "Buttercup is lellow!"

"Not lellow, Prim, it's _yellow."_

Prim had gave Katniss an odd stare that read _"I knew that!"_ and promptly attempted to pronounce the word again. "Yeah, Katniss, that's what I said: Buttercup is lellow!" She hugged Buttercup and then released him. Buttercup scampered under the table.

" _Yel_ -low."

"Lel-low."

The joke remained between the sisters for many years. It was one of the few things Katniss and Prim were able to laugh about together. Now in the present day, Katniss didn't wipe the tears that ran down her cheeks when the memory of Prim's "lellow" ran through her mind. The beautiful and heartfelt memory is full of innocence and reminds Katniss her love for her younger sister will live forever.


	14. Green

**14\. Green **

_**The Color of Peace**_

"As a thank you for that beautiful sunset from last week, I have something for you," Peeta says, smiling. Behind him is a large canvas covered by a torn burlap sack.

Katniss raises her eyebrows, unsure of what Peeta is referring to.

"Pumpernickle bread? You were talking about baking it for the past month."

"It's not for me; it's for you, Katniss. Close your eyes."

Sighing, Katniss obeys him. "Now what?"

"Now I will show you _your_ favorite color." Peeta removes the torn burlap sack and throws it aside. "You can open them." He steps away from the canvas.

Katniss opens her eyes and is immediately speechless.

Peeta has painted a gorgeous portrait of the forest she and Gale used to hunt together in.

The lush greens on the canvas come to life as she marvels at how Peeta captured nature with paint. Trees, plants, bushes, shrubs—all shades of vibrant green. Just by touching the canvas she's in the forest at that very moment. The crunch of fallen leaves, the cool wind at her back, the soft rustles of small animals scampering on the forest floor bring her immense peace. She runs her fingers along the canvas, admiring the textures of the paint. Peeta had worked very hard to bring the forest to her.

"Do you like it?" His tone is a mixture of worry, curiosity, and hope.

"I don't like it, Peeta." A warm feeling passes through her as she turns to him. "I _love_ it."


	15. Blue

**15\. Blue**

 _" **We're a team, aren't we?" – Effie Trinket**_

Effie's favorite wig was the same marvelous blue that Caesar Flickerman had worn for the 74th Hunger Games. Hers had streaks of silver going through it and she absolutely loved wearing it, especially when it matched her elaborate dresses or high heel shoes. She had planned to wear it again—she had worn it for the 72nd Hunger Games. She was considering having a new blue dress designed for the Third Quarter Quell, until she found out who would be reaped this year.

Effie had been overwhelmed with shock when President Snow announced the twist to this year's Games. Hot tears ran down her face as he made it clear that previous Hunger Games' victors were no longer immune from being reaped again. It was so unfair that they had to go back to the arena. The prospect of losing any of them left her feeling cold and empty. Her heart shattered and she knew it would remain broken if she lost them forever. She knew she'd end up reaping Katniss, since she was the only female victor from District 12. It was unavoidable. What about Peeta or Haymitch?

Her sadness soon morphed into anger. Effie was furious at the Capitol and most of all, she was enraged at Snow for what he wanted to do—what he was attempting to do. For all her focus on colorful wigs, fashion style, mahogany, manners, and being on time for scheduled events, Effie _wasn't_ stupid. She knew Snow wanted Katniss and Peeta dead for what happened at the end of the 74th Hunger Games.

And here she was, all worried about what color to wear to this year's Games. She could wear blue anytime, but not this year.

Gold.

Gold was in style and in her eyes, her victors were gold. Gold was a standout color, it sparkled and glittered. Gold had value and worth. Gold was radiant and eternal. Gold meant greatness and magnificence in Effie's eyes and in her view, all three Victors from District 12 were distinguished from everyone she had ever met in the Capitol or the Districts.

That's when Effie realized she could channel all that anger and focus on her victors. She wanted to, or more so, she _needed_ to show them how much they meant to her. They weren't just "tributes", or District 12's "star-crossed lovers", or the Capitol's favorite "lethal lovers" as Flickerman had called them.

They were her victors.

Most of all, they were real people. Real people with their unique personalities and quirks. Real people with families. Real people she had come to know and love.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark weren't just random names pulled out of the reaping bowls. She had gotten to know them past seeing Peeta's name on the paper and seeing Katniss volunteer in place of her sister. Haymitch, who had always drank and behaved surly towards her…she had learned to appreciate his sarcasm and dish it right back to him. She appreciated Peeta's bravery and love for Katniss, when he had revealed it during his first Games and when he demonstrated it by leading the Careers away from her. Most of all, Katniss…Katniss was not like any tribute she had ever met. Katniss had fire in her eyes, determination in her step. She was raw and real and Effie cherished that about her. Katniss was as real as the Capitol was fake.

She needed them to know that she truly cared about them and that she was against President Snow's idea for this year's Quarter Quell. And not just the Quell—she despised the Games now, she hated the Capitol, and she loathed Snow for snatching away those she loved from her in such a cruel manner. For the first time ever, Effie truly understood the anguish that many parents felt across Panem when their children were reaped for the Games. The helplessness of what was happening, the inability to express one's anger at the Capitol because of deadly retribution, the intense fear that she would lose her loved ones, and the overwhelming sadness that they were dead already. That Katniss and Peeta were going back to the arena, and wouldn't return alive this time. That the next time she saw them, they would be in a wooden box, holding a white rose from President Snow's garden. Their eyes would be closed, no longer able to see the world in front of them.

She knew not to voice any of her thoughts and feelings aloud. She couldn't. To do so would bring swift punishment to her and them. So she found a way to communicate her love for Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch, without it being obvious to anyone in the Capitol, especially President Snow. The first thing she did was buy a sparkling gold wig to match with Katniss' gold Mockingjay pin. Next, she would get gold tokens for Haymitch and Peeta. She had introduced the idea to them on the train, emphasizing they were in this together. Tributes were allowed to wear tokens during the Games. With all of them wearing some form of gold ornament or trinket, it showed they were a team. Most of all, it showed Effie—and she hoped that Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch picked up on it—that her alliance was with District 12 and not the Capitol.


	16. Purple

**16\. Purple **

_**Anything But Royal**_

Purple.

For most, it is a beautiful and favorite color, but for Mags, it is associated with intense ugliness…

Mags dislikes the color purple as she was forced to wear it when she was 16 years old—the year she was reaped for the 11th Annual Hunger Games. She despises any kind of purple: lilac, lavender, violet, plum... She finds out later that there are many shades of purple she never knew about such as wisteria, Tyrian purple, patriarch, heliotrope, boysenberry, fandango, byzantine, Byzantium, magenta, mauve... There are too many to name. Her hatred for the color deepens.

Mags' stylist, Amethyst, was in love with purple; she especially liked designing purple outfits and accessories for District 4 tributes. She bragged to Mags about changing her name to reflect her passion for purple: _I went with 'Amethyst' because 'Vesta' is such as boring name._ Of course, Mags' escort, Iris, was all for it, since everything she wore was the despised color. Purple silk, purple threads, purple sequins, purple beads, purple shoes, purple lipstick, purple hair, purple skin dye…

 _It's the color of royalty!_ Mags remembered Amethyst and Iris saying all the time.

Being forced to participate in the Hunger Games to murder other kids her age made Mags feel _anything_ but royal. It didn't matter how much the Capitol tried to glamorize it: killing another human being was _not_ regal in Mags' eyes, nor was it something to be proud of or celebrate. Knowing she may end up becoming a _killer_ against her will in that arena frightened Mags. Knowing she may end up _killed_ added another level of terror to the suffocating fear she already felt from the moment Iris had announced her name at the Reaping.

 _They're so empty-headed, ditzy, shallow, and stupid,_ Mags thought when Amethyst took her measurements with a plum-colored tape measure. All their talk about purple this and purple that.

Mags had other colorful images in her mind that were not purple, not royal, and not beautiful.

The dark redness of gushing blood she had seen when seeing the 5th Hunger Games after a tribute smashed the head of another tribute's during the bloodbath with a sledgehammer. The sickly pink of a tribute's intestines spilling out after their ally turned against them in the end of the 7th Hunger Games—they were the final two. The eggshell white of bone when a dead tribute had been chewed up by huge buzzard mutts, their ribcage on display for everyone watching in Panem. Those were the 8th Hunger Games. After those Games', deceased tributes were immediately picked up by a hovercraft.

The memories of those Games' haunted Mags. She could remember every hideous image clearly. Too clearly. When she closed her eyes, she could see it vividly, as though the tribute's murder happened right in front of her. Her fear of ending up dead before age twenty, the thought that her own district partner might turn against her so he could return home, the very idea of meeting her death shortly after the Games began at the bloodbath...she knew they were all very real possibilities. That didn't matter to Amethyst and Iris.

It was all about that awful color.

Purple.

She had to go along with Iris' and Amethyst's never-ending ramblings about _purple_. She didn't have a choice. If she resisted, she would get killed, if she went to the Games, she knew the odds of her surviving were one in twenty-four, since twenty-three other tributes would be hunting her down. Sure, they would dress her up in their favorite lilacs and mauves.

It didn't change the fact that her death was imminent.

So she played along as was expected of her, especially since she was a Career tribute. Mags wore a purple sequined gown for the Tribute Parade. For her interview, Mags was fitted into a strapless lilac dress. This was years before Caesar Flickerman became a household name. It was some other interviewer whom Mags had long since forgotten about.

During the Third Quarter Quell, Mags barely said anything when Caesar asked her opinion about returning to the arena. She was too focused on his lavender hair and memories of her first Hunger Games. It crosses her mind that he isn't wearing a matching purple outfit and that he didn't dye his teeth or skin. Capitol citizens like Flickerman usually went all out to accessorize and match. After all, Amethyst had dyed her own lips electric violet.

Her Victory Tour was the worst—twelve purple dresses in twelve different tints and shades. By the time she volunteers in place of Annie for the 75th Hunger Games, Mags still recalls with glee how she hid those awful dresses from her sight, never to be seen or worn again. She wanted to rip them to shreds, but was happy enough to stuff them in a room in her home at Victors Village. The Purple Room. A room she never went into. Sometimes she smiles at the thought that the only time she _didn't_ wear purple was during the actual Games. And she's even more relieved that she doesn't see a stitch of purple thread in her tribute outfit for the Quarter Quell.

Mags knows she will go to her death hating the color purple as it comes to represent all she abhors about the Games, the Capitol, and all she has lost in her life.


	17. Brown

**17\. Brown **

_**The Color of Life**_

If there was one color never seen in the Capitol…it was brown.

Citizens of the Capitol lavished themselves with every color imaginable—loud reds, fabulous pinks, lavish greens, exciting blues, vibrant oranges, gorgeous yellows, lush purples—and all shades and tints in between. Glittering silver, spectacular gold, shiny copper, those three colors were a definite favorite amongst the wealthiest in the Capitol. Even the colors black and white (the latter being President Snow's personal favorite) were adapted to exude elegance.

But brown…was just brown. Plain and boring. To the Capitol anyway.

Not to the Morphlings from District 6.

They had learned it was best to blend in the background wearing outfits that were a quiet brown. They didn't need to play dress up or fashion show with the Capitol's bright colors. The Careers had done that and all of them were sent home in coffins.

Brown was beautiful. It was the best color to use for adapting to an arena's environment. Especially if that arena was designed as a humid swamp filled with quagmire, gigantic cypress trees, thick fog, and monstrous alligator mutts. Mud, earth, and dirt were the perfect camouflage when hiding from the other tributes in the marshes. Tributes could walk right by without the faintest idea that the Morphlings were nearby.

The swamp was a horrible arena to be in for many of the tributes. The Capitol rarely used this setting for an arena and most of the tributes were completely unprepared. She remembered watching from behind tall grass as one tribute was devoured by two alligator mutts. They had ripped the tribute to pieces as they fought over the carcass. The entire time she could hear the hideous sounds of flesh being torn, bones crunching…long after the tribute's awful screams had faded. She had witnessed three tributes get swallowed alive by quicksand. There were huge mosquitos mutts five times their normal size. Getting bit by a mosquito mutt would cause a tribute's skin to swell up, redden, and eventually the skin would pop with yellow pus oozing out. One tribute had been bitten by a swarm of mosquitos and had died a slow agonizing death.

As for him, he knew he had used camouflage to survive his Games…after all, he had taught her that skill…but he wanted to forget his Games. He knew she wanted to forget hers, too. So they started taking morphling. It didn't take a lot to get addicted. Several doses taken throughout the day proved to be very effective. The flashbacks and nightmares were still there, but not as vivid. The memories of their Games' grew fuzzier and blurry over time.

One constant remained: their love for the color brown and all it represented to them about survival.


	18. Black

**18\. Black **

_**The Deadly Consequences for Expressing Grief**_

 **oOo**

 **Article 200: Panem Law  
Expression of Public Mourning/Grief  
** **Section LXXIV**

PL. 200.01 A person is guilty of Expression of Public Mourning/Grief when they express their mourning or grief in a public domain not approved of by Panem Law.

PL. 200.02 "Expression of Public Grief" includes, but is not limited to, open emotional expressions, i.e. weeping, crying, screaming. This also includes wearing clothing or carrying signs to express one's grief, i.e. black clothing.

PL. 200.03 Public Domain" includes the Victory Tour, Capitol TV, etc.

PL. 200.04 No family member of a slain tribute is permitted to express public mourning or grief during the Victory Tour.

 **oOo**

President Snow, being a lover of white, forbids the color black, especially on certain occasions where he views it as a sign of rebellion in the Districts. The Capitol's citizens are permitted to wear black clothing as much as they like, but the Districts' people are an entirely different matter.

He drafts and signs a law for all of Panem to observe. The law decrees that during the Victory Tour, families of slain tributes are not allowed to wear black to express their grief. They are not permitted to mourn in public. They can stand on the platform and wear whatever they want-anything but black. The families must do like the rest of the people in their District and celebrate during the Victory Tour. It doesn't matter if the Victor killed that District's tribute. Wearing any type of black clothing is illegal and punishable by law. The Peacekeepers strictly enforce this dress code.

When the family of a slain tribute in District 9 decides to wear black after this law comes out following the 33rd Hunger Games, President Snow immediately makes an example of them. The parents are whipped, placed in the stocks in the public square for a week, and banished from their home for several days afterwards. They're prohibited from returning until President Snow gives them permission to do so.

The youngest child of the family, a four year old girl, was not exposed to the lash or wooden stocks, but dies of starvation. She was left alone to wander the grain fields of District 9. No one dared help her by taking her into their home for fear of facing severe punishment. Her decomposed body is found by Peacekeepers in one of the smaller grain fields. Thrown in an unmarked and shallow grave, the nameless girl is buried with no honor or dignity.

President Snow breaks the news to the parents during a visit after they are finally allowed to return to their home. "Your youngest daughter is dead. The Peacekeepers found her in a grain field not too far from here. Where she is buried…I do not know." His voice is steel.

As he places a reassuring arm around the weeping mother, the father recoils as he senses the depths of Snow's cruelty. He believes Snow knows exactly where their daughter is buried—his son met his death in the arena, and his daughter—she will never know the horrors of the Hunger Games—but to die the way she did: starved, freezing, lonely…it is more than the father can bear. He has to use all his willpower to not physically lash out against President Snow. If he does, his wife will be alone in the world forever. He can't let her suffer that unthinkable fate. He won't.

They only have each other now…

"Now you've lost two children." He wants to ensure they learned their lesson. Because he believes in the power of the media, President Snow has the entire situation recorded and broadcasted across all the Districts in Panem. "Let's not repeat this again."

He leaves a single white rose in their home as a reminder to never wear black again.


	19. White

**19\. White **

_**Snow White**_

"Nothing says perfection like white," President Snow said to his advisors, Antonius and Egeria.

Antonius and Egeria nodded in unison as they paid full attention to their leader.

President Snow sat at the head of a long table in the presidential suite of his mansion with his new Capitol Cabinet members. The order of business was this war that Katniss Everdeen had started when she shot an arrow at the arena's forcefield, effectively destroying the Games forever.

"I want our… _guests_ …" Snow smirked when he emphasized the word because he knew Peeta Mellark and Johanna Mason were his prisoners to torture for information. In fact, just yesterday he received word from Antonius that Johanna Mason was refusing to cooperate. He planned to address her insubordination during today's meeting. "I want Mr. Mellark and Ms. Mason to be dressed entirely in white whenever they appear on Capitol TV and when their images grace Panem. Their attire must be white, elegant, and proper to demonstrate their alliance with myself and the Capitol—in protecting Panem from this war."

"I agree, Mr. President. White is very in right now," Egeria said. "Shall we hire a renowned stylist for this purpose?"

"Yes, I want you to hire the most experienced and talented stylist in the Capitol. Use your connections."

"Consider it done."

"I know you're efficient." President Snow eyed Egeria. He knew she was a trusted member of his Cabinet. "I plan to make a presidential address on the following topics: unity, prosperity, and sacrifice. Mellark's and Mason's participation are mandatory. I want you to inform them of their upcoming roles as it will be broadcasted across everywhere in Panem—both in the Capitol and the Districts. I also want you to draft a script for the address."

"Before the end of today, I will have a rough draft written and submitted for your review and approval. What will be the premise of the presidential address?"

"The interdependent relationship between the Capitol and the Districts. We depend on each other as a nation to survive. We need the Districts to stand with the Capitol."

Egeria nodded, "I will ensure those points are brought across in the address."

"Thank you," President Snow said. He turned to Antonius. "I understand that Ms. Mason has been reluctant to give up information on the rebels."

"She's made it clear that she refuses to answer our questions, Mr. President."

President Snow stared at the table in front of him, deep in thought. Then he smiled coldly. "It seems Ms. Mason needs to be persuaded to join our cause."

Egeria looked puzzled while Antonius listened, eager to hear Snow's suggestions of how to deal with Johanna's resistance.

"You are under strict orders to ensure she is not killed, Antonius. Do you understand?"

"I do, Mr. President."

"I suggest we make alterations to her appearance. Continue to use the water tank as a means to sway her to our side, but…" President Snow spoke his words in the chilling manner he was known for: "Do not kill her. She will be showcased in the presidential address along with Mellark to show that the Games' Victors are aligned with the Capitol. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Egeria and Antonius answered together.

"Excellent." He stood up from the long table and Egeria and Antonius mirrored his actions. Reaching into the vase in front of him, President Snow plucked two white roses and gave each one to his advisors. "Please accept this white rose as a token of my gratitude."

 **oOo**

"We've got it covered. Let's try one more time. Peeta, when Mr. President states 'Panem Forever', I need you to turn and look directly into the camera. Let Panem see your face, let them see you are alive after the Quarter Quell. Mr. President, just continue as you've been doing: speak to the camera as though you are speaking to entire nation of Panem," said Julius, a young man in his late twenties. He worked for Capitol TV and had been hired by Egeria to film the presidential addresses. He had a large turquoise mohawk and tattoos of rattlesnakes adorned his arms. He pointed at the camera directly in front of President Snow. "On three, we will begin. One, two, three."

President Snow sat up straight in the white throne and began speaking directly into the camera. "Since the Dark Days, our great nation has known only peace. Ours is an elegant system conceived to nourish and protect." He paused and saw Egaeria nodding in approval as he recited her speech. "Your Districts are the body. The Capitol is the beating heart. Your hard work feeds us and in return, we feed and protect you." Now he changed his tone to sound empathetic, almost pitiful, although he felt far from it. "But if you resist the system, you starve yourself. If you fight against it, it is you who will bleed. I know you will stand with me, with us, with all of us. Together as one." He made sure his next words were spoken in a bold voice. "Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever."

A brief silence passed and then Julius stood in front of President Snow.

"Got it. That was perfect! That's a wrap for today."

"When will the address air on Capitol TV?"

"I'm thinking by the end of the week," Julius said.

"I'd like it aired by tonight," President Snow demanded.

Julius nodded. "I can have that arranged." He looked from President Snow to Peeta Mellark, who offered no input. Uncertain if his presence was still needed, Julius went back to his crew to review and prepare the footage.

President Snow turned to Peeta. "You did a fine job, Peeta. Your cooperation in these matters is truly appreciated."

Peeta looked into the cold eyes of President Snow. "I'm just following orders."

"The Districts need to see that you, Peeta Mellark, as an esteemed Victor, stand with the Capitol during this war."

Peeta maintained his composure. "I never wanted a war. Neither did Katniss." He kept his voice neutral.

President Snow was silent for a moment as he considered his options. He gestured for Egeria to come forward. "Peeta, I know you're intelligent, however it is clear that you still need some convincing of who the real enemy is. Egeria, take Peeta to the same location as Ms. Mason. Put them in adjoining cells."

Egeria nodded and two Peacekeepers took Peeta away. President Snow observed that Peeta didn't resist as his arms were forced behind his back and he was escorted out of the room by the Peacekeepers. Egeria turned back once to President Snow who nodded for her to continue onward. He would arrive there soon enough. He stood up and glanced over the white throne, remembering his conversation from earlier that day with Egeria and Antonius. _White is perfection,_ he thought and is more convinced than ever that his way is The Right Way.

The Capitol _will_ win this war with the Districts at their side and when it's over, he will dispose of Mellark and Mason. He will ensure both victors are wearing white attire at the time of their executions and most importantly, holding a white rose from his garden. _Perfection…_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** President Snow's speech is from President Snow's Panem Address "Together As One", which was part of the marketing campaign for The Hunger Games: Mockingjay: Part 1 movie. You can find it on YouTube. Thank you for your continued readership! _**-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	20. Colorless

**20\. Colorless**

 _ **The Absence of Feelings**_

Johanna Mason wore the same gray uniform as everyone else in District 13. She picked at the uniform, while sitting in the waiting room of Dr. Aurelius' office. _Ugly gray…it's better than Snow's white,_ she thought. Then another word floated in her mind: _colorless_. The door to his office opened. She didn't look up.

"Johanna?"

Johanna followed Dr. Aurelius into his office. He was a middle-aged bald man, who wore the same exact gray uniform. He gestured towards the sofa, inviting Johanna to sit down and be comfortable. Johanna sat on the sofa, but remained on the furniture's edge, her fingers digging into the upholstery fabric. She was about to run her fingers through her hair and then stopped herself when she felt the soft stubble. She reminded herself that she was still bald and it would take time to grow her hair back. She sighed and stared at the wall, resigning herself to the fact that she couldn't relax. Ever since her torture in the Capitol, Johanna found it impossible to relax. She couldn't feel anything. She really needed a dose of morphling so that she wouldn't have to think. It would help to block the flashbacks of overflowing water, Peeta's screams, having her head shaved after being beaten up by five Peacekeepers. She shook her head, trying to focus and gain control. What bothered her most was that Dr. Aurelius would ask her, as he always did in every session, about her feelings. As though on cue…

"How do you feel today, Johanna?"

"Colorless."

"That's not a feeling."

"It is to me. And right now, that's how I feel: colorless."

Dr. Aurelius tapped a pen on his notepad where he intended to write notes about today's session. "Perhaps you feel numb?"

"I prefer the word 'colorless'." Johanna's hands curled into tight fists, the only outward sign of her frustration with him. She needed to have the power to label this— _nothingness_ —with the word "colorless". She needed to own and wield that power. She refused to let him take it from her, even if he had good intentions to help her.

Dr. Aurelius took a deep breath, maintaining his patience. "Perhaps this chart will help you to identify your feelings."

He handed her a paper entitled "How Do You Feel Today?" Below the title was a grid of several different facial expressions with descriptions underneath. _Embarrassed. Confused. Angry. Bored. Surprised. Jealous. Sad. Afraid. Happy. Worried. Withdrawn. Excited. Lonely. Confident. Exhausted._ Johanna knew she could point at a face to describe her feelings, but it wouldn't suffice. The emptiness in her heart would never be filled. No feelings would remove her and Peeta's screams from her mind. They played on repeat whether she was awake or asleep.

"How about we try something new?" Dr. Aurelius offered. "It will go along with your theme of 'colorless'. I'll name a color and you give me the feeling or mood you associate it with."

Johanna shrugged, indifferent to what he suggested, but deciding to try it. "Sure."

"Red."

"Angry."

"Orange."

"Mellow—more like calm."

"Yellow."

Johanna rolled her eyes. "Happy." She slumped back in the sofa.

Dr. Aurelius urged her to continue. "You're making good progress. Green."

"Jealous."

"Blue."

"Depressed."

"Purple."

"Sleepy."

"Sleepy?"

"Yes, sleepy." She shrugged again. Dr. Aurelius said she could give the color whatever association she chose. What was wrong with "sleepy" for purple?

He didn't contradict her. "Brown."

"Confused."

"Black."

"Dead."

Silence filled between the doctor and his patient. Dr. Aurelius stared at Johanna for several moments and she stared back at him. She wasn't going to take back the association of "dead" for black.

"Can one feel dead?" He asked, his tone serious.

"I do. All the time."

He nodded after digesting what she told him. He wouldn't challenge her on the last answer she gave him. Not today…equating black as death could be explored in a future session.

"Last one: White."

Johanna thought about it. "Terrified."

"Very good, Johanna. I find it interesting that you associate 'white' with fear."

Johanna thought he was trying to sound optimistic, although he was probably mystified by some of her answers. Her association of terror with the color white was obvious to her, but an enigma to Dr. Aurelius. He didn't know she was linking the color white with President Snow and everything she had suffered as a prisoner of the Capitol. The interrogations, the torture…She didn't want to elaborate on it. It would mean going off in a direction that she didn't want to, that she wasn't ready for.

"Now, based on all the colors and the associations you just gave them: which do you feel most? Which do you feel right now?"

Johanna sighed. She felt like none of these colors or emotions matched her inner-being. And she still needed the control to identify what she felt on her own terms. She needed that power that Snow had snatched from her when he witnessed her torture in the water tank.

"I still feel colorless…to me, anyway."

Dr. Aurelius ended the session shortly after. He held open the door for her and decided to contact her later in the week to schedule her next appointment.

Johanna rolled the paper into a ball and threw it in the trashcan before leaving the office. For the first time since her reaping for the 71st Hunger Games, she felt as though she could pick up the Earth and bowl it into a cluster of constellations.


	21. Friends

**21\. Friends**

 _ **Keep Your Friends Close…**_

"See you tomorrow, Clove," Glimmer calls over her shoulder as she and Marvel leave Clove and Cato to return to their suite in the Training Center.

The elevator hums as Clove and Cato ascend to the second floor.

"You've made a new friend," Cato says, smirking.

Clove shoots him a glare, but says nothing. She wonders how long the alliance she has formed with her fellow Careers will last once the Games begin. _I'm sure we'll get past the bloodbath,_ she thinks. Then it hits her hard: _once Girl on Fire is dead…if any of us Careers finish her off, that'll leave us to turn on each other…betray each other_ … _kill each other. Only one can go home…_ Clove has seen years of Hunger Games and is wise enough to know that Cato is not her friend, even if he does come from home, District 2.

Friendships and alliances have a short lifespan in the Games.

One year was really awful: the 53rd Hunger Games saw three final tributes wandering in a scorching desert: both tributes from District 1, and the female tribute from District 2. During the night, the tributes from District 1 ganged up on the District 2 tribute while she was asleep. The District 1 male slashed District 2's tribute's throat…she woke up, gagging, clutching her throat, blood spilling out of her mouth. While he stood over her, laughing and pointing at the dying girl, the District 1 female took the opportunity to spear him through the back. As though that wasn't enough, she ran in the front so that she was facing him. She took a second spear and aimed at his stomach.

Clove trembles at the memory of it and clenches her fists. _Get it together, Clove_ , she admonishes herself _._ She can't show fear. The 53rd Hunger Games hit a chord with her because it was the District 2 female tribute that had been so cruelly murdered…

That could be her.

If anything, those Games were a clear reminder that it's only a matter of time before allies stab each other in the back—literally and figuratively. It makes her glad she has developed her knife-throwing skills during training at the academy. She can stab an enemy in the back, gut a friend face to face, and throw a knife from a distance if needed to bring down anyone in her path. Her combat skills with edged weapons make her a deadly and terrifying tribute.

It also means the odds of her leaving the arena alive may be in her favor…And yet, if she's the one to murder the Girl on Fire, she knows the Careers will turn on her. She'll be seen as the main threat to be eliminated after Katniss is dead. So Clove reminds herself that no matter what's said or agreed between her, Cato, Marvel, and Glimmer—at the end of the day, she can only be a friend to herself if she is to survive the 74th Hunger Games and return home to her family.

 **oOo**

She can barely think over the crushing pain in her skull.

Snippets of recent memories flash through her mind. Glimmer tried to kill Katniss. Failed. Shot an arrow up the tree. Missed. Next morning, tracker jackers stung her to death. Marvel was close, but Katniss was faster. An arrow shot through his neck. Cato and her planning to go the feast. Corner the Girl on Fire. Kill her once and for all.

She had come the closest to killing her. Threw a knife at her. Struck Katniss above the eye. Tackled her to the ground. Slammed her down. Taunted her about LoverBoy. Was proud to see the blood streaming over Girl on Fire's eye. Planned to give the audience a good show. Earn sponsors. She chose a specific knife to begin carving up Katniss' face. One moment, straddling the Girl on Fire. Next minute, yanked off and held in the air. He was bellowing at her. She didn't know his name. He mentioned District 11's tribute. Rue.

Then she saw the stone in his hand.

She couldn't pretend to be brave. Not when death stood right in front of her. Her heart lodged itself in her throat.

He smashed the stone against her temple and her skull exploded with pain.

Although she can't respond anymore, she can hear everything around her. Enobaria had told her hearing is the last sense to go. How it was possible for the dying to hear everyone and everything around them, even though they can no longer respond.

She hears voices above her. Katniss and Thresh talking. Her telling him she sung Rue a song as she died. How she buried Rue in flowers. They were allies. Not just allies. Katniss and Rue were friends. _Friends._ Clove wishes she had a friend now. She thinks she hears Cato nearby. Crashing through the bushes. Katniss and Thresh are gone now. She heard them leave. They were noisy when they ran off.

She senses Cato kneel beside her. She can feel his hand gripping hers. His hand is large and warm and envelops her small one. She wishes she could talk, but she can't. All she can do is listen to him plead with her.

"Stay with me, Clove, just hang in there."

She can hear the sadness choke his voice. He's trying to be strong for her. Maybe Cato really believed the announcers when they said two tributes from the same district can go home.

"Don't leave, we're going to make it out of here. Stay, Clove…"

The blue sky above her begins to darken as her vision fades. Just before her world blackens forever, Clove is thankful she had one friend in the arena so she didn't have to die alone.


	22. Enemies

**22\. Enemies**

… _ **And Your Enemies Closer**_

In a very fancy suite in the Capitol, Finnick Odair, age 17, laid on a mammoth-sized bed and face to face with a Capitol citizen. He stared at the turquoise make-up smeared across her face in wild streaks and the red lipstick faded from her lips. She wasn't messy from a passionate night with the District 4 Victor. It was from the secret she had finally revealed.

Of all people to share this secret with…it was the most famous Victor of all time: Finnick Odair.

Earlier that day, she had wined and dined him at the highest rated restaurants that offered the most mouth-watering entrees and desserts. She showed the youngest Victor all there was to see in her area of the Capitol. However, he wasn't interested in her overflowing riches or her mansion of multiple rooms. Now that they were alone together, her mask had finally come off. Underneath the clownish make-up was a devastated Capitol citizen. Tears had streamed down her face as she spoke the truth in a quiet whisper.

"I know he killed my husband. I've known forever, although I had my doubts from time to time, but now," she released a heavy sigh and buried her face into the pillow, her next words barely audible, "…now I know."

Finnick's eyebrows rose. He was curious, but cautious. He knew his status as a Victor, after all, and this woman was a high-ranking Capitol citizen. This wasn't a secret he was expecting to hear. He had expected to hear something scandalous—such as she had slept with the Head Gamemaker and rigged last year's Games for that particular Victor to win—to ensure the odds were in her favor. From how her words slowly spilled out, he made himself listen carefully. There was a bend in her voice that sounded like she was on the verge of completely shutting down emotionally.

"He killed him…I know he did." She lifted her face and looked at Finnick.

"Who did?"

"Snow did. Who else? It's how he rose to power, you know."

Finnick was silent. He was still shocked that a Capitol citizen would reveal this ugly truth to him, a tribute, a Victor from the Districts. But why? She risked being turned into an Avox. Speaking against the President of Panem was considered treason. She had everything to lose. Then Finnick realized: she had lost everything already.

She saw his bewildered expression. "You want to know why I'm telling you this…it's because at the right time, it needs to be revealed to all of Panem the truth about our beloved President Coriolanus Snow." She didn't hide the bitterness from her voice.

Finnick looked at her thoughtfully. "Tell me more."

She wiped her eyes, not caring about smearing the mascara. "My husband was a high-ranking official in Capitol politics. He worked in the President's cabinet, so he had direct access to Snow…and Snow had direct access to him."

"So they knew each other really well?" Finnick asked.

"Yes. My husband, Amantius, was very loyal to him. He would never question Snow, always followed his every command, supported every motion and action he would propose. I don't know why Snow killed him." She looked directly at Finnick with a crazed look in her eyes, as though he knew the answer she was searching for. Ashamed, she looked away quickly. "There is one thing though."

Finnick leaned close to hear her voice that had sunk to a whisper. "What is it? If Snow was convinced of your husband's loyalty, then what do you think caused him to turn against him?" His voice was firm. Finnick knew he had to be strong for the woman whose name he didn't know, but whose husband's name he had learned.

"He once suggested…" She looked over her shoulder as though expecting a Peacekeeper to jump out of the shadows and arrest her. "He once thought it would be good to have…" She hesitated again and continued when Finnick nodded for her to share with him. "…a new president just in case Snow couldn't rule Panem anymore…to have what they call 'elections'."

"Elections?" Finnick asked, intrigued. He had never heard of such a thing.

She nodded. "Long before Panem, there was a country called the United States of America, and they would have elections where the people could choose their own leader. The people had a process called 'voting'. Their president would serve for a four year term. The maximum amount of terms they were allowed to serve were two, so they could serve the country a total of eight years. Amantius was very intrigued by this history. He said one president—" She stopped for a moment in deep thought, trying to remember. "I think his name was Franklin Delano Roosevelt was elected four times. Amantius said they called him 'FDR' and he was very well-liked obviously, especially when this United States was involved in a war." She sounded unsure of herself at moments, and although she didn't know the full history, she was definitely fascinated. "Amantius loved learning about the history of the United States and their politics. He thought this knowledge could be shared with President Snow."

 _Amantius couldn't have been more wrong,_ Finnick thought and it made sense to him. Snow didn't want to be "voted" out of his position. He definitely didn't want there to be a limit to how much time he served either. And the only person President Snow was interested in serving was himself. He intimidated and controlled both the Districts and Capitol with the Hunger Games. He wanted all the power for himself to lord over Panem. Finnick wondered if it would be wise to share his assessment with her. He looked at her again and could tell she wanted answers or at least, validation for what she was implying.

"He was threatened by your husband's suggestion. Did he mention it to Snow?"

"He did." She nodded; glad that Finnick had caught on to what she was implying. She stood up and began pacing in the room in a rushed manner, triggered by the memory of her husband's murder. "I wished he never said anything! Only two months after that time, I noticed something strange with my husband. He became ill and very weak, he couldn't get out of bed—it wasn't like him at all! He died shortly after."

"How do you think he did it?" Finnick asked.

She shrugged. "He did it in a manner that couldn't be easily traced. After my husband died, there were rumors swirling around about another friend of Snow's who died the same exact way my husband did. You know what they said?" She stopped pacing and crossed over to where Finnick sat up on the bed.

Finnick shook his head, bewildered, but completely riveted by what he was hearing.

"Poison," she whispered the word as though to say it aloud would mean meeting her death in that manner. "And I believe them! I had a secret autopsy performed on my husband and paid the staff plenty of money to keep them silent…they confirmed there was poison in my husband's body. Then I find out there have been other mysterious deaths like his—all people linked to Snow. Now that I think about it…it must be true. Someone told me...that he takes the poison himself to deflect attention from him and it caused him to have mouth sores that have never healed. His breath reeks of blood…it's why he wears roses to cover that disgusting stench. Haven't you noticed that he always wears a white rose on his suits?"

Finnick nodded as he digested all this information. This was by far the darkest secret anyone had revealed to him in his three years as a Victor. The fact that it was centered on the highest ranking official in Panem—President Coriolanus Snow—made it even better. He knew when the time was right and perfect; he would expose President Snow. As though reading his mind, the Capitol citizen laughed coldly.

"Hold onto that secret and release its contents to all of Panem at the right time, Finnick Odair. Show the country how many enemies our dear President Snow has made over the years. Poisoning his own friends and all because of his constant craving for power."

She shook her head and then staggered to the bed. Without speaking another word, she leaned over with her hands covering her face and sobbed for a long time. Finnick watched as her body trembled violently and realized at that moment who the real enemy was. It wasn't this Capitol citizen or even the men and women before her, nor would it be anyone afterher. It was President Snow who wanted to dictate everyone's thoughts and actions, including members of his own entourage.

Finnick sighed as he watched her weep. He felt his heart soften for the woman who had lost her husband in such a cruel manner. He loved Annie back home and he knew she would understand this next gesture wasn't meant as infidelity or even an act of love towards the Capitol citizen. It was compassion, mercy, and a genuine understanding for the heartbreaking loss she had experienced. Finnick quietly wrapped his arms around her and held her close until her crying ceased and she fell asleep in his arms.


	23. Lovers

**23\. Lovers**

 _ **Destined…Ill-fated…Star-Crossed?**_

They were called "The Star-crossed Lovers of District 12" and their impact was felt by everyone during the 74th Hunger Games. No one knew they would change the direction of Panem forever…

 **oOo**

Capitol citizens were completely riveted—and divided by their love story. This was the first time in the history of the Games that Capitol citizens wanted _two_ tributes to win. It just wasn't fair to have only _one_ Victor! Such was the argument between diehard Hunger Games fans in the Capitol.

Some rooted for the dual victory and others were strict followers of the Games' rules of only one Victor. Other Capitol citizens wanted the Careers to slaughter the star-crossed lovers, but thankfully, they were in the minority. What if the final two tributes were from District 12? Would Peeta Mellark sacrifice himself for his deep love for Katniss Everdeen? Would Katniss Everdeen choose to die in Peeta Mellark's place?

"I'm torn on who to root for!" A Capitol citizen who had been watching the Games for the past forty years was completely taken in. "Everdeen is amazing with a bow and arrow, but that Mellark boy is clever."

"Maybe they'll both win," said his companion. "That would be the first time it's ever happened in the Games."

"But they can't! There can only be _one_ Victor."

Both Capitol citizens were elated (and relieved) when Claudius Templesmith announced that the last two tributes alive from the same District can both be declared Victors.

 **oOo**

Caesar Flickerman didn't overthink if District 12's tributes were putting on a show for the Capitol audience or if the love between Peeta and Katniss was genuine. Well, he certainly believed Peeta was sincere in what he had revealed during his interview. It was the first time any tribute had shared such a juicy secret and chose the opportune time to expose their true selves for everyone to see.

While he knew it was good for the ratings and would ensure this year's Hunger Games would be a must-see by the Capitol audience…there was a part of him that felt deep sadness for Peeta. It wasn't fair that this handsome young man had to go to the arena to fight to the death and never have a chance to be with the girl of his dreams. He wondered if Peeta was sacrificing himself for Katniss, and then considered the beauty of loving someone so much that you would sacrifice your life for them. Caesar Flickerman decided then that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark are his two favorite tributes—ever.

 **oOo**

A quiet hush fell over the District 12 crowd watching the tributes' interviews on the large screen.

Peeta Mellark had just finished telling Caesar Flickerman that winning the Games wouldn't help him. Some of the citizens turned to each other, confused, shocked, and looking for answers. They couldn't recall a time in the Games when one tribute professed their feelings for another tribute. It was unheard of as everyone knew the unspoken rule of every man for himself…every woman for herself. Alliances were short-lived as eventually the tributes turned against each other. But romance? Feelings! _Love?!_ There was no room for sentimental ideals in the Games. It was either kill or be killed. And in District 12, the odds were not in their favor, not with it being the poorest district on the outskirts of Panem.

Soon, murmurings could be heard in the crowd in small spurts. They weren't loud so as not to rouse the attention of the peacekeepers.

"Where's that boy's head at? Is he crazy?!"

"This can't be real, he's just saying that to get sponsors."

"He'll be the first one killed in the arena, that's for sure."

"She better not be stupid to fall for that foolishness."

And on and on it went…

 **oOo**

In the Everdeen household, Primrose and Mrs. Everdeen looked up just as Gale stormed in. They were still digesting that Peeta had professed his feelings for Katniss and now Gale was in front of them, his face reddened and his eyebrows knitted together in disbelief.

"What's he talking about?" His question was a demand for an answer, an explanation about what had transpired on Capitol TV.

Prim looked at her mother, who shook her head, uncertain of how to respond, what to say. They were just as surprised as Gale.

"We don't know, Gale," Prim started slowly. "We had no idea he felt that way towards Katniss."

"Has he ever spoken to her before the Reaping?" Now Gale was trying to investigate the roots of Peeta's feelings for Katniss. "I know they went to school together, but they've never said one word to each other."

Prim stared back at Gale and then went to pick up Buttercup. She liked Gale a lot, he had helped her family ever since Katniss had volunteered in her place. At the same time, his angry reaction was unnerving and Primrose didn't know what to make of it. Petting Buttercup's head, she wondered if Gale had always had feelings for her older sister and if Katniss had feelings towards him. They spent a lot of time together in the woods, so maybe something had developed between them that neither the Everdeen or Hawthorne family were aware of.

Buttercup purred, content with Prim's soft touch. Prim didn't say anything else to Gale and she briefly listened as he spoke to her mother. Then he left their home just as quickly as he had entered. Prim let Buttercup go as the cat sprawled himself out on the floor. He rolled on his back and Prim tickled his stomach. She wondered what Katniss would do with this new unexpected information about Peeta's feelings. Primrose had seen Peeta many times in the bakery and sometimes at school, but she never imagined that he had feelings for Katniss.

 **oOo**

Gale returned to his home in District 12. His younger siblings were watching a recap of all twenty-four tributes' interviews. The Capitol symbol flashed across the screen. There was Peeta Mellark again telling Caesar Flickerman that the odds weren't in his favor because the girl he has feelings for, came with him to the Capitol.

He turned his back to the television, refusing to watch it. Peeta was lying and cooking up some lame love angle scheme to survive. When did Peeta ever speak to Katniss? He didn't even know her. He had no idea who she was, what she was afraid of, what was most important to her…

He couldn't stand to watch the Games when they started. The gnawing feeling in his heart increased when he saw Katniss kissing Peeta. He knew Katniss would return home, he had to believe in her ability to survive the death match for his own sanity. At the same time…where did all this kissing with Peeta leave Katniss? Would she care for Gale when (if?) she returned to District 12?

Gale tried not to think about it.

 **oOo**

The following morning after Peeta's and Katniss' interview, Mrs. Everdeen came into Mr. Mellark's bakery. They looked at each other. No words were exchanged. They knew their shared past. It went unspoken between them that only one of their children could walk out of the arena alive. Mrs. Everdeen wasn't sure if Peeta was sacrificing himself for her daughter. Mr. Mellark didn't know what to think of his son's interview and how it would impact him during the Games. So Mrs. Everdeen simply nodded at Mr. Mellark when he looked at her for a long time, his expression heavy and weary.

 **oOo**

"What _is_ he doing?!" Effie's eyes widened as Peeta's interview continued. She started pacing back and forth backstage, throwing her hands up in exaggerated frustration. "He's just made it worse for himself! Now the other tributes will gang up on him—kill him first thing!"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch." Haymitch smirked when Effie glared at him. "Sit down, have a drink." He downed a glass of scotch. "Peeta's using his smarts. Katniss needs sponsors and he's getting them for her. Good kid, he's brighter than I gave him credit for."

"It's not going to save him, Haymitch!" Her voice was shrill. "He made himself an easy target."

"He knows what he's doing. This angle hasn't been done before. Let's see how it plays out."

While Effie and Haymitch squabbled in the background, Cinna kept his focus on the screen, the quiet observer. A brief smile lit his face and quickly vanished. He had a hunch of what Peeta was up to, but he would have to watch the Games to fully see the outcome. He actually looked forward to seeing the significance of Peeta's words on him and Katniss. He didn't think Peeta was insincere and he certainly hoped that what he revealed to Caesar Flickerman woudn't be used against him and Katniss by the Capitol or other tributes. Cinna already knew he was betting on the Girl on Fire and it seemed as though Peeta Mellark had also cast his vote for her. In Cinna's view, Peeta's transparency showed his willingness to let Katniss be the Victor…and he admired the District 12 tribute for being brave and selfless.

 **oOo**

The Careers huddled around the screen in a suite reserved especially for Career tributes backstage.

"Is he kidding?" Marvel asked. "He's asking to get slaughtered at the bloodbath."

"Not if I don't get him first," Clove said. "Stab him right in his little heart that beats for Everdeen."

Glimmer shook her head. "Pathetic…as if saying he likes Ms. Look-At-Me-Twirl-In-My-Fire-Dress is going to earn him any sponsors."

Clove threw Glimmer a piercing glare. "It just might. Don't be so sure of yourself."

"You're scared that a coal-miner is going to beat us? Better brush up on your knife skills, Clover."

"It's _Clove_ ," she said through clenched teeth. "And if you don't shut your smart mouth, I may just brush up my knife skills on _you_. You could be target practice when we get in the arena."

"Not if I don't kill you first." Glimmer tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. She turned to Clove and met her dark gaze. "Seriously, why are you even talking like that? We're allies. It's what our Districts do every year in the Games."

There was a slight chuckle from behind them. Marvel, Glimmer, and Clove turned around to see Cato watching the screen with dark amusement painted across his features. He was nodding in a knowing manner as though he had already solved the problem of having District 12's tributes be labeled as "Star-Crossed Lovers."

"I say we get Lover Boy on our side…convince him to join our alliance so he can show us where Girl On Fire is….and then we put out her flames, or better yet, get him to kill her…" A devilish grin lit up Cato's sharp features. "When that's done, we dispose of him."

Clove nodded in agreement. "That's a good plan, Cato."

"An _excellent_ plan," he corrected her. "Even better, if we can set them against each other, then we could get loads of sponsors."

Marvel high-fived Cato. "That's what we'll do…use him to get to her, and then destroy him."

Cato's grin was haunting. "Exactly."

 **oOo**

Thresh and Rue sat on luxurious throne-like seats in their suite on the 11th floor in the Tribute Center. They were watching the interviews from there as they had been escorted to their suite right after they were finished. Peeta had just finished his interview and he wasn't sure what he thought. It was…interesting, to say the least. Thresh respected Peeta's honesty, he just felt revealing his feelings for Katniss Everdeen to all of Panem…the odds weren't going to work in his favor. He had just succeeded in making himself a prime target for the other tributes, especially the Careers. Thresh shook his head, but maintained a neutral expression on his face. He wasn't one to openly reveal what he felt and thought to anyone. _The less said, the better,_ was his main thought.

Rue turned to him. "Why are you shaking your head?"

Thresh's eyebrows rose when he heard her question. She sounded genuinely curious. He could make one exception to be open about what was on his mind. _Just this once…for Rue._

"Not a good move."

"What do you mean?"

"He just made himself and Katniss Everdeen prime targets in the arena."

"Ohhhh…" Rue's eyes dropped and Thresh could tell by the expression on her face that she didn't want Peeta or Katniss to be killed. "I like them…I was watching them during training."

"And?" Now it was Thresh's turn to be curious.

"They seemed nice…like they could be allies."

Thresh frowned. No one was "nice" in the Games. You couldn't be "nice" if you needed to survive a battle royale against twenty-three other contestants hunting you down. "You were spying on them?"

Rue giggled and Thresh smiled as she curled up in the throne-seat. Rue had a sweet innocence about her, but he knew not to be fooled. Rue was definitely skilled—she had stolen Cato's knife during training without him finding out she was the culprit. Although those skills could help her survive the arena, he hated that she had been reaped. She was too young to experience the horrors of the Games. He wanted her to survive and return home to District 11.

"Yeah! They're fun to watch and I learned about them, too. Peeta is really strong and Katniss has a younger sister."

Thresh had to be honest with himself: he couldn't see Peeta or Katniss killing Rue. Especially not after the way Katniss volunteered in her sister's place. District 12's reaping this year always struck Thresh as deeply touching. He wished someone had volunteered in Rue's place, but no one had stepped up. No one wanted to go to the Games, he fully understood that. Why couldn't it be that no one wanted to see a twelve year old girl get murdered on national live television?

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he would hate to be the tribute to kill them. He figured it would be best to avoid the District 12 tributes at all costs. For his protection and so that he wouldn't be forced to kill them if it came down to him or Katniss—or Peeta. He wanted to say the same to Rue, but he could tell by the way she spoke about Katniss that she was already considering aligning with the Girl on Fire. And maybe that wasn't a bad thing, given Katniss' sacrifice for her younger sister.

"You're right, they sound like worthy allies," Thresh said. "I'd be careful with that 'girl on fire' though."

"Why?" Rue looked puzzled.

"You know what happens when you play with fire…you get burned, Rue."

Rue looked serious for a moment as she thought about what Thresh was suggesting. "I don't think she's like that."

"You don't know that. Remember: there's only one Victor."

"Maybe they'll align together." Rue's eyes widened as she imagined it.

"You and her?" Thresh was confused now. He thought Rue was talking about aligning herself with Katniss Everdeen.

"Peeta and Katniss…Katniss and Peeta…together forever…aww!"

Thresh couldn't help but smile at Rue's fascination with the possibility of District 12's tributes being the so-called star-crossed lovers.

 **oOo**

Foxface smiled after watching Peeta's and Katniss' interviews. District 12's tributes were different from everyone else. Cato was all about how vicious he was, Marvel was full of himself, Glimmer was a pretty face banking on her sexual appeal to gain sponsors, Clove was truly frightening…

The rest of the tributes were a blur to Foxface, until she watched Thresh's and Rue's interviews. She knew to stay away from Thresh. His mere presence was threatening…he had a silent deadly aura about him. He wasn't like Cato who bragged to Panem about how terrifying it would be to face him. Thresh let himself speak for himself. And Rue…Rue was too adorable. Foxface knew not to underestimate her, but she also knew she didn't want to be the one to kill a young girl as little as Rue.

Foxface didn't want to kill _anyone._

She and her mentor were already planning out her strategy for the arena. Avoid the other tributes for as long as possible. Focus on survival: food and water. Hide using the arena's surroundings. Hope and pray you survive to see the end. Foxface believed it would work. She remembered her mentor showing her an earlier Games where a tribute from District 6 used camouflage to hide until the rest of the tributes were dead. That strategy had ensured that tribute's survival. It gave Foxface hope that her technique could work.

She then considered what Katniss and Peeta were doing. She couldn't recall a time when love was used as an angle to gain favor from sponsors, to make the audience feel compassion and sympathy for the tributes. Foxface admitted to herself that she admired Katniss' and Peeta's way of trying a unique way to survive the Games.

 **oOo**

Seneca Crane had a sardonic smile on his face when the countdown began. All the tributes were launched into the arena and the bloodbath was seconds from starting. He wondered how the beginning of the Games would play out for Everdeen and Mellark—and was shocked when he saw both District 12 tributes split up: Katniss took off with a backpack that barely saved her from Clove's knives and Peeta ran towards the woods.

As the Games progressed, a great idea struck him: what if he made the Capitol audience believe that _two_ tributes could survive the Games if they're from the _same_ District?

Even better, what a great way to toy with the tributes! Make them think they can both live, watch them try to fend for each other, only to have to kill each other in the end. Crane knew from watching past Games' that anytime the final two tributes were from the same District—one tribute didn't have the heart to murder the other for their own survival—and the other tribute had no problem killing off the other to claim their victory. It always made for great entertainment and if one tribute professed love for the other, if both tributes were pulling the heartstrings of the Capitol—then it only made sense to let them believe they would be allowed to go home. That way the final battle would bring in ratings. Panem would definitely be watching.

Crane shared his idea with the fellow Gamemakers and was pleased when they agreed with it. Soon after, he made sure to contact Claudius Templesmith so that the commentator could make the public announcement in the arena. After speaking with Templesmith, Crane felt more confident than ever. This rule change would effectively prove to President Snow that he was an expert in entertaining the Capitol. If the truth be told, Seneca Crane believed whole-heartedly that he would be Head Gamemaker for years to come—long after Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen have been buried in their graves and forgotten about by the Capitol.

 **oOo**

President Snow watched the Games carefully from inside his mansion. He wasn't convinced when Everdeen kisses Mellark in the cave. _She's indifferent to him,_ he decided to store that information away for a later time when it will be useful. _Mellark is genuine._ He noted the way Mellark had pretended to travel with the Career pack in a real effort to protect Everdeen. He even warned her of Cato coming to kill her.

Snow also remembered Peeta Mellark's interview with Caesar Flickerman. That's where all this…love…started between the District 12 tributes.

During the finale of this year's Games, Snow was strongly convinced of Everdeen's efforts to preserve her life and defy the Capitol. And Mellark went along with the whole lovesick routine. The joint suicidal gesture would be seen by ignorant Capitol people as a sign of true love, but President Snow knew right away that the Districts would view it in an entirely different light.

President Snow knew one thing was certain: he must extinguish the spark before it catches fire.


	24. Family

**24\. Family **

_**Finnick's Legacy**_

No other woman in Panem held the key to Finnick Odair's heart. Women swooned over the handsome Finnick Odair, but the only woman he wanted to spend his life with was Annie Cresta. Stepping over the gray threshold of their small headquarters in District 13, Finnick was thrilled that he and Annie were able to have a beautiful wedding in District 4 style to celebrate their love.

Now, he and Annie could have a few tender moments together. He had a strong instinct that his time with Annie was short, especially with the direction the war was going in. He didn't want to tell her that. He just wanted her to enjoy their blissful moment. In a cold gray bunker deep in the recesses of District 13, he could tell her what he wanted most from their union together.

"Annie," he said, caressing her face. She turned to him, her sea green eyes meeting his own. He leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. "I want us to start a family."

She nodded and smiled. "I love you, Finnick," in a quiet whisper that only she could muster.

Finnick didn't know if he would survive the war, but at the very least, they could start a new family in a new world. He could be happy knowing his son or daughter would live in a new era. Finnick believed with all his heart that the Rebels would win the war and it would be worth it for his child to live in a safe world.

He cupped her face gently and pressed his lips against hers. She kissed him back and it was the best feeling in the world. Annie was shy in front of other people she didn't know, but with Finnick she was bold. She fed off his strength and he fed off hers. She had an inviting scent to her. He started to kiss her again and froze.

"What's wrong? Why did you stop?"

How could he tell Annie that he may not survive the war, and yet start a family with her? Fear washed over him. "What if I don't make it tomorrow?"

Annie looked at him, confused, yet concerned. "Tomorrow?"

Finnick nodded, but wouldn't reply. He didn't want to tell her he was afraid of death. He was terrified of leaving her as a young widow and mother with a son or daughter to raise by herself. He had survived two Hunger Games, but this time would be different. Now he was about walk into a war. A war meant people dying, families torn apart. Although it was to free Panem and make the world a safer place for future generations of the Districts' children...he was in this war. He was going to fight in it and there was no guarantee that he would make it out alive. He couldn't promise her he would come back to her, although he wanted to. He wanted to return to Annie, live a quiet married life with the woman he loved most, raise a family together. This war was so unfair, but it was the only thing to eradicate the Hunger Games forever. Finnick swallowed the lump in his throat when he thought about it: _it's unfair that the Hunger Games existed to begin with._ The thought that he wouldn't return home alive devoured any peace and happiness he felt from his recent marriage to Annie. He looked away from her, not wanting to face her. He felt her hand graze his cheek and he turned to stare into her eyes.

"You're here with me today, Finnick."

He nodded as a single tear rolled down his cheek. This time, Annie cupped Finnick's face and kissed him with as much love and passion that she could muster. She broke the kiss and smiled at him, searching his face to see if he felt reassured, loved. A small smile lit up his face. It was enough to tell Annie all that she needed to know. She didn't know if it was a forced smile for her sake, or if he truly felt it. The most important thing for Annie was that they were together. They were married and had taken an oath to always be by each other's side. The war, President Snow, the Hunger Games...none of these things would ever destroy the love they had for each other.

"You're here with me now," she told him, caressing his face, "and that's all that matters."


	25. Strangers

**25\. Strangers **

_**Once United, Forever Divided**_

After the Dark Days, the Capitol devised a plan to ensure the Districts would never reunite again.

These deadly plans were intended to last for decades, centuries…forever. Keeping the Districts divided would ensure the Capitol's tyranny thrived. In a dark room in a secret place, a small group of the Capitol elite came up with a solution that would bring about more bloodshed in the immediate future. They were a mix of male and female citizens, young and old. All were determined to find a way to make the Districts pay the highest price for their rebellion.

"They once united to fight against us. Now they will fight against each other…to the death. At one time, the District citizens were allies, now they will be pitted against each other as strangers. They will never taste the sweetness of solidarity again." Rage was present in this elderly man's voice. He wore a badge with the name _Cassius_ _Snow._

A hushed female voice asked, "Who would be sacrificed?" Her name was _Cardea Flickerman_.

"Their own children, ages twelve through eighteen. That's the age where they start to think for themselves, develop a stronger identity separate from their parents, and sometimes even rebel against the values they were raised with. Two of them! A male tribute and a female tribute." _Cassius Snow_ didn't mask his desire for revenge. "Let them kill each other until only one is left standing."

"We're punishing their children for what their forefathers did." Another quiet voice sounded uncertain if this was a good idea, much less a sane or rational one. The voice belonged to a young man named _Pericles Heavensbee._ He stared at the table, refusing to look at his co-conspirators.

Silence filled the room. Everyone looked at each other, daring the next person to add more to this morbid scheme to control the Districts.

"It's the only way," _Sabina Crane_ said with confidence. "They shed the blood of Capitol citizens. They will not dare _entertain_ the thought of rebelling again if they are forced to watch their children slaughter each other." She chuckled harshly. "That's exactly what it should be: entertainment, a game, where they're forced to watch their children kill each other, just as the Capitol was forced to watch the Rebels kill their children."

"It should be televised for all of Panem to see." Another woman added their thoughts. _Claudia Templesmith_ smiled widely at the thought of the proposed lethal tournament being broadcasted throughout the entire country. "It would be required watching for the Capitol and especially the Districts."

"What happens to the winner?" _Pericles Heavensbee_ asked, still uncertain about what was actually being suggested.

"Parade them around to all the Districts. Rub it in their faces," _Claudia Templesmith_ answered in a tone as though this was an obvious answer to the question posed. "If the Victor from District 8 goes to District 5 where he slaughtered the female tribute from there with his bare hands, I doubt District 5 will want to befriend District 8."

"The division will be effective." _Cassius Snow_ stated. "They will be strangers from now on and allies no more."

A young man who simply went by the name of _Achilles_ entered the conversation. He sounded as though he was trying to hold back his laughter. "And what shall we call these 'Games'? The Killing Games? The Survival Games?"

"The Hunger Games. We can distribute food to the Victor's district if they win. These Games will be a great distraction in the years to come. We will be able to control all of Panem. _Panem et Circense,_ " _Sabina Crane_ added _._

Looks were exchanged. One by one, each Capitol citizen nodded in agreement, consenting to the slaughter of innocent children. Blood would be spilled, but this time it wouldn't be the Capitol's citizens. The Districts' children would pay dearly for the sins of their fathers and all the world would bear witness to their penance.

And so, the Hunger Games were born…designed by a few that would impact thousands of lives for decades to come.


	26. Teammates

**26\. Teammates**

" _ **Remember who the real enemy is." – Haymitch Abernathy**_

Haymitch was infuriated by Katniss' stubborn attitude towards the other Victors. They had survived their Games and contrary to what Katniss said about nobody decent ever winning the Games, Haymitch knew they were decent folks as he had gotten to know them over the years. She had more in common with them than she realized: at a young age, they were forced into a kill or kill be sport and were traumatized survivors. Haymitch fully knew and understood this. Why Katniss thought otherwise was beyond him.

Did Katniss really think she could go into a Quarter Quell with experienced killers—and not have _any_ allies? She needed to remember it wasn't just her and Peeta out there in the arena. Haymitch knew she needed a team behind her, especially given the plans that were already in the making. Plans Katniss had no idea about and Haymitch couldn't risk telling her. Even so, he had to drive it home that Katniss couldn't act on her own, nor could she shield Peeta by herself. It was far too risky this time around.

Even Effie had reminded her on the train ride that she, Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch were a team. _Coming from Effie, that's saying a lot,_ Haymitch thought, grimly. Given that she was amazing with a bow and arrow, her stunt with the nightlock from last year, and the situation with Peeta—Haymitch knew Katniss was an immediate target. If only she would focus on who the real enemy was, then he could do the rest of his mentoring without any problems.

Haymitch sighed as he thought about it and knew he was right. _I'll remind her to remember who the real enemy is…she'll come to realize that it's not the other Victors…it's the Capitol._


	27. Parents

**27\. Parents **

_**Willow and Rye**_

Katniss watched her four year old son play with his seven year old sister in the meadow. Willow chased a small rabbit hopping across the grass. Willow had tried catching the rabbit several times, but it kept hopping away in the nick of time. Rye was smaller, but managed to follow close behind Willow. Rye was good at catching grass. He threw a handful of grass in the air and grinned happily at his parents, who watched nearby.

"Sometimes I can't believe they're ours," Peeta said, clasping Katniss' hand.

Katniss nodded and squeezed Peeta's hand. "He has your hair and she has your eyes."

Peeta was quiet for several moments before he responded. "He has your eyes and she has your hair."

Katniss squeezed Peeta's hand in return. She never imagined she would be a mother to two beautiful innocent children—much less with Peeta. She thought about the different challenges parents had experienced throughout Panem's history.

During the Dark Days, parents in the Districts wanted their children—if they had joined the Rebels—to survive the war. When the Hunger Games started, being a parent was emotional torture. A parent felt mounting terror throughout the year knowing their own child could be reaped for the Games. Even if you had won the Games, being a Victor didn't mean you had special privileges as a parent. It didn't make you immune to having your own child get selected at the Reaping and killed on live TV.

It made Katniss wonder what it was like for her parents when she and Prim were born. Was their moment of elation clouded by fear that one day one of their daughters would be reaped for the Games?

Before Willow was born, Katniss had wondered about the prospect of being a parent. What it would mean for her and Peeta, how it would change their lives forever. She remembered telling Gale she would never have kids. After the war when she and Peeta returned to District 12 and slowly rebuilt their lives together, he would bring it up several times. Katniss had always refused, although deep down inside, she wondered if she would ever experience joy at being a mother. Was it possible, after everything they had lost—beloved family members, innocence, the ability to fully trust and heal completely— to have peace in the form of children? She never revealed these thoughts to Peeta and he instinctively knew to leave the topic alone. Sometimes years passed before he brought up children again.

Now that it's been several years since giving birth to Willow and Rye, Katniss has made her peace about being a mother to Peeta's children. She accepted what he always wanted. Thankfully, there's no fear of having the children be reaped for the Games. Instead, Katniss is focused on how to explain to Willow and Rye about her and Peeta's role in the Games, the rebellion, and the world they live in today. How it was dangerous—and to Katniss, it will never be fully safe, but it's changed greatly from when she was growing up. It's what she and Peeta will do together as parents: raise up their children to be strong and aware, to be knowledgeable about their pasts, so that they don't take their present lives for granted, and to live in a safer and brighter future.


	28. Children

**28\. Children **

_**What He Always Wanted**_

"Katniss…" Peeta spoke her name slowly as he lay down beside her in their bed.

Katniss turned away from him, refusing to face him. "We're not having this conversation again."

"Actually, we are."

Katniss shrugged in response. She said nothing, although she kept twisting her fingers.

"They won't be reaped. It's over. There hasn't been any Reapings for the past five years. We won't lose them to the Games."

Peeta touched her shoulder and turned her around gently so that her gray eyes met his blue eyes. Even in the darkness, he could see intense fear flickering in her face. Her eyes were wide with terror.

"There are no more Games, Katniss. You know that as well as I do. There hasn't been a Hunger Games for years now."

Katniss stared at him, not saying anything.

Peeta decided to ask her straight out: "Why are you afraid?"

"How, Peeta?!" Her voice was a furious growl. "How will we explain to our children that children in Panem were once reaped into a competition to fight to the death with other kids their own age?"

Peeta realized what direction this conversation was going in.

"How will we explain that we killed others so that we could live? Or that we started a rebellion?"

Peeta took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He wasn't sure how to answer those questions. "I don't know, Katniss."

"Exactly, you don't know and I don't know either."

"When we get to that point in their lives, we'll tell them. We won't lie or keep the truth from them. We'll tell them together about everything that happened, even our part in it."

Peeta waited several minutes, hoping for an answer. After a long aching silence, he forced himself to continue trying to convince her of what he wanted, what he had dreamed of for so long. He knew what he wanted, it was her fears that he needed to alleviate, and he would do anything to succeed.

"It will be okay, Katniss. We have each other." He closed his eyes, praying for an answer that would help give her peace. "We have the book…we will be honest with them."

Katniss still said nothing. By now, he wasn't ashamed to plead with her for what he wanted.

"I want to have children, Katniss. A little boy and a little girl…please…I want them so badly…we would be good parents to them. We would make sure they're safe."

He turned her to him again and gently kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her body, enclosing her, wanting her to feel safe with him. For a moment, she was kissing him back, just like in the arena. She kissed him harder and Peeta knew she wanted what he wanted, but the trauma of loss and death was winning the battle. He knew this when she pulled away from him. Peeta reached out to brush the hair out of her eyes and she shoved him away. He recoiled, hurt by her cold rejection. He knew it was fear of losing her children that kept her from wanting to have any of her own; but now, she was pushing him away. His heart wilted in his chest and he stared down at the blanket, defeated.

"I'm not doing this." Katniss rose out of bed and left the room before Peeta could respond. "I told you I'm _never_ having children."

Katniss' angry words echoed back to Peeta, who lay by himself in the bed, left to wonder how he would ever convince her that the world they lived in now, the Panem they had fought for and liberated…was safe enough for their future children.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This chapter "Children" would've been better coming before "Parents". However, the order in which the prompts are were **27\. Parents** and **28\. Children** based on _LiveJournal's Fanfic100_. Both ficlets can be read as separate pieces, although they can also been as companionship parts. Thank you for your continued readership! _**-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	29. Birth

**29\. Birth**

" _ **I Love You, Willow"**_

Mrs. Everdeen sat down her daughter's bedside in the District 12 hospital. "You made it, Katniss, and so did she." She smiled warmly at her daughter.

Katniss tried to sit up in the bed and found it to be difficult. She felt weak…drained…and yet, so happy and relieved. "'She'?"

"You gave birth to a baby girl. They will bring her in soon. Peeta assisted with cutting the cord and now they're finishing up the tests to make sure she's healthy." Mrs. Everdeen smiled and wiped Katniss' hair away from her face. "You were in labor for several hours longer than expected."

Katniss closed her eyes and touched her stomach. She had given birth hours ago, although it felt like it had just happened seconds ago. Could it be? Had she actually given birth to her first child? How did she go from promising to never have children, to Peeta begging her for children, and then finally giving in, becoming pregnant…and now she actually gave birth to her first child? It seemed surreal.

The door opened and Peeta came in carrying their newborn wrapped in a pale yellow blanket. Katniss craned her head in his direction, trying to catch a glimpse. Mrs. Everdeen gasped in amazement.

"Oh, Katniss…" Mrs. Everdeen couldn't finish her statement.

Peeta smiled widely and Katniss could see the tears glistening in his eyes. "She's beautiful, Katniss." He gently placed the baby in Katniss outstretched arms.

Katniss held the sleeping newborn, still in shocked that this little baby girl was hers. She couldn't find the words to describe the thoughts and feelings racing through her mind and heart. She remembered a conversation she had with Annie during her last trimester.

" _I was heartbroken learning that Finnick died in the war. That our baby would grow up not knowing who his father was."_

" _Did it change over time?"_

" _I miss Finnick everyday. That will never change." Annie had started slowly, but then she quickly shared more with Katniss. "What I've learned is to focus on Noah, give him the love his father would've given him. Finnick would be so proud of his son. I know he's watching over us, guiding us. The moment I gave birth to Noah, I felt a new happiness since losing Finnick. I knew life wouldn't be the same, but that it could go on and that I have to move forward also—for Noah's sake. It's what Finnick would want. I've already begun showing Noah pictures of his father, so that he knows who he is. And I see Finnick in Noah. Noah is his own person, but I see his father in him."_

At the time, Katniss was speechless. Partially because of how much Annie had shared with her as Annie wasn't known for speaking a lot, and also because of the content and meaning of what she spoke about. Katniss also realized that giving birth to Noah was healing for Annie.

" _You'll see, Katniss…when you have your own child…there really is nothing like it. Nothing can compare to the love you feel when you first hold your baby in your arms."_

Finally, after so many years, Katniss fully understood what Annie had shared with her. About having your own child and the power of being a mother. She felt the deep love swell up inside her for her new child. The way she had protected Prim would now be a hundredfold for this tiny newborn that hadn't yet opened her eyes to the world.

She has also felt a strong sense of joy and relief. Joy that this child would always be hers and Peeta's. Not the Capitol's. There was no Reaping to dread since the Hunger Games had been over for years. She felt relief and then felt sad that this had crossed her mind. Katniss made herself focus on the here and now—on the baby girl asleep in her arms. She wondered what she would name her little girl.

"I haven't thought of a name for her," Katniss said, her eyes never leaving her daughter's face. She marveled at how tiny she was—tiny hands and fingers, tiny feet and toes, tiny nose, eyes, and lips—every part of her so precious and delicate.

"Willow," Peeta said, gently. "I thought the name would fit her perfectly."

Mrs. Everdeen nodded in approval. She was quietly enjoying the presence of her first grandchild and the extraordinary experience of being a grandmother—a role she never thought she would get to experience.

"Willow," Katniss repeated. She caressed Willow's cheeks and kissed her forehead. She was too choked up to say what she wanted to tell her daughter, but the words rang loudly in her mind: _I love you, Willow._


	30. Death

**30\. Death**

 _ **The Road to Death**_

Long before Katniss Everdeen's arrow struck President Alma Coin's chest, the District 13 leader imagined how she would execute the Mockingjay for her insubordination. She considered different ways to eliminate Katniss, so that she wouldn't be a threat. Coin eventually realized that killing her was too kind and would only succeed in elevating her to martyr status.

For Coin, turning Katniss into a hero for the rebellion was not the answer because it meant Panem would still look at her for inspiration and hope. Coin wanted _all_ eyes on her. Not Katniss Everdeen. Not Peeta Mellark. President Coin only. She had to be the Only One that everyone in Panem looked to if she was to rule over the nation. Katniss had done what was expected of her and Coin was only too happy to discard the teenager now that her she had outlived her usefulness.

Then one day, it dawned on Coin exactly how she would murder Katniss. After all, the act of murder didn't have to be physical…it could also be mental, emotional, and spiritual. Coin grinned as she remembered the times she had witnessed Katniss talking with Prim. The two sisters were very close and Katniss had originally volunteered to take Prim's place in the Hunger Games. Katniss would only be broken beyond repair if someone close to her was killed.

Peeta Mellark or Primrose Everdeen. She could've flipped a coin to decide after her namesake, but she had already made her decision. President Snow had already tried to break Katniss by hijacking Peeta and effectively turning him against Katniss. Let's see what killing her sister would do to Katniss...

Coin made the decision to place Peeta with Squad 451. Either Peeta would regress into his hijacked state and kill Katniss or Katniss would be forced to kill Peeta, effectively breaking her spirit. Coin felt exhilaration rush through her as she devised the plan. It was a win-win situation with two of Panem's most famous Victors thrown out of the picture. As a back-up plan, in case the first one with Peeta didn't work, Coin agreed to have Prim in the front lines, knowing for certain she would be killed from Capitol fire or from Rebel forces—it didn't matter. Prim's death would lead to Katniss' demise, Coin was certain of this fact.

Coin came very close to succeeding with her plan. She killed Prim, by managing to make it appear as though Capitol forces were behind her death. At long last, Katniss was completely broken. The Girl on Fire had burned out and could no longer be ignited to fight. She wasn't a threat anymore and Coin would move forward to claim her title as President of Panem.

There was just one small detail that Coin overlooked.

She didn't take into account the distorted relationship between Snow and Katniss…Snow was cruel and evil, and yet, he believed in honesty. It was the only moral trait that existed inside that immoral man. Snow would reveal to Katniss with brutal honesty the truth about District 13's leader and her hand in Prim's death. Coin never suspected that when Katniss came out to assassinate Snow, the arrow would pierce through her heart, causing her to topple over to her death. By the time the crowd had been cleared away, Coin's gray eyes held the glassy stare of a recently deceased person, as they stared straight ahead at the arrow sticking out of her body.

In trying to murder Katniss, Alma Coin only succeeded in bringing about her own death.


	31. Sunrise

**31\. Sunrise**

 _ **New Beginnings**_

Cinna loved watching the sunrise every morning. It's a reminder of new beginnings. Yesterday is gone, today is here. Tomorrow has yet to come. It's why he has a special place in his heart for Katniss Everdeen. From the moment she volunteered in Prim's place, Cinna knew Katniss was special. Unique. She was different than any tribute he had ever seen and he had a strong gut feeling that she would be the one to inspire change in Panem.

Cinna was new to being a stylist for the Games, but he remembered watching them in his home when he was growing up. The Games were treated as an annual celebration. His parents would invite everyone in the family to stay over for however long the Games lasted. Friends were more than welcome to come by. There was plenty of food to go around. Everyone would take bets on which tribute would die first, which would be the Victor, and if two tributes were fighting on TV, they would bet on who would win.

Everyone, except Cinna.

Cinna hated every moment of it. During his childhood and teenage years, he would watch silently while his family laughed in the background as they cheered for one tribute to murder the other. Depending on the arena the Gamemakers had created, there would be more or less bloodshed. He couldn't understand what was so great or entertaining about watching kids his own age kill each other. Would his mother and father be acting the same way if it was _him_ in the arena? If it was Cinna's name called out by a Capitol escort, his parents wouldn't be enthusiastic if he was sent to the Capitol and then the arena to die—they would be terrified and rightfully so. That is, unless he came from one of those Career Districts where being in the Games were considered an honor. Then they would fit right in with the thrill of their son fighting for his life and slaughtering others without mercy.

In Cinna's eyes, the Districts' kids had done nothing wrong and didn't deserve to be forced into a kill-or-be-killed televised match. Capitol Curriculum required Capitol children and youth to learn every year about the Dark Days and the origins of the Hunger Games. There were exams about the history between the Capitol and Districts; of course, it was all slanted in the Capitol's favor. Cinna never brought the idea that justice was beings served by forcing the descendants of the rebels to murder each other. It was cold-hearted revenge and designed to control the Districts from future uprisings. Nothing more.

He once told his parents what he truly felt about the Hunger Games, and on his 17th birthday, he took it a step further and refused to watch it with his family and friends. That was the last time he saw his family. He was kicked out and told to find his own way in the world. Cinna never forgot the morning he left the place he had called "home" and the family that wasn't treating him like family simply because he felt differently about the ridiculous death tournament. It had been early in the morning and the sun was just coming over the horizon, the warm colors of red, orange, and yellow spilling into the sky like a furious fire.

Years later and the mesmerizing sunrise was etched in Cinna's memory. It was about newness, starting over, and making a name for himself in the world of Capitol fashion and style. It was intentional when he requested to work with District 12's tributes for the 74th Hunger Games. He saw the opportunity to work with Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark as a beautiful sunrise—these tributes were new and different from everyone reaped that year. He was excited to see what direction they went in.

For the first time, Cinna wished he could place a bet on who would be the Games' Victor because his instincts screamed loud and clear that Katniss would be the one to revolutionize Panem forever. He didn't openly relay his thoughts and feelings, he always channeled it into his fashion. He knew exactly what type of dress to design for her first Games to make her stand out, to show that her very presence would set Panem on fire. His silent rebellion kept others safe and even though it would eventually lead to his death, Cinna was glad that he got to be part of something so much larger than himself. He lived to see the day when the sun would rise over Panem and there were no more Hunger Games.

And all because of that one girl…

...The Girl on Fire.


	32. Sunset

**32\. Sunset**

 _ **The Boy with the Bread**_

"So why sunset-orange?" Katniss asks one evening as she and Peeta watch the sun make its way towards the horizon. "Why not Effie-orange?"

"It has to do with working for the family business, the bakery my father owned."

Katniss nods. "It's way different from hunting."

"It definitely is," Peeta says, smiling. "I'm up in the very late evening and early morning hours, getting ready for the day. Preparing ingredients, measuring and mixing them, forming dough into pie crusts, cookies, loaves of bread, making pastries, creating icings and toppings, and on it goes."

"I'm salivating from just hearing about it."

"I'll make you banana bread for tomorrow morning."

Katniss leans her head on his chest and he puts his arm around her shoulders. "I'll hold you to that." She watches as the sky becomes a stunning array of bright oranges and vibrant yellows. "Look at that, sunset orange mixed with yellow."

"It's really nice to watch," Peeta says. "I didn't see a lot of sunrises growing up because I was always getting ready to open the bakery for the day. As soon as I was old enough to help with the family business, they had me do everything. So sunset became my favorite part of my day. It was that brief moment where I could relax, have a few moments for myself."

Katniss thinks about what Peeta is telling her. After going through both Hunger Games', the rebellion and war, Peeta coming around from his hijacking—she is still amazed by how much she doesn't know about the Boy with the Bread—and how glad she is for the time they have together to learn more about each other.


	33. Too Much

**33\. Too Much**

 _ **An Overflow of Blood and Tears**_

There was "too much" in Katniss Everdeen's' young life.

Too much fear ingrained into her spirit from watching years of Hunger Games for as long as she can remember.

Too much senseless deaths and violence from her participation in the 74th and 75th Games'…Thresh…Rue…Cato…Clove…Foxface…Glimmer…Marvel…Mags…Wiress…Blight…Cecilia…Cashmere…Gloss…Woof…Seeder…Chaff…

Too much loss in the war, especially with the bombing of the hospital in District 8 and District 12 being destroyed. Finnick…Boggs…Castor…Messalla…the Leeg twins…Homes…Mitchell…Jackson…

Too much tears she had shed over Prim's death and almost losing Peeta to the Capitol's attempt to turn him into a weapon against her.

Too much guilt over Rue's death that she wished she had prevented.

Too much heartache at seeing how President Snow had turned Peeta against her with his hijacking methods.

Too much rage at President Coin when Snow revealed she was behind the bomb that killed Prim.

Too much regret about how everything changed between her and Gale, their friendship tarnished forever after Prim's death.

Too much blood on her hands…


	34. Not Enough

**34\. Not Enough**

 _ **A Debt That Can Never Be Repaid**_

There was no such thing as evening the score between the Capitol and the Districts after the Dark Days. No one knew how long the Hunger Games were supposed to last, but every year the Capitol clamored to see more blood.

Throughout the year, propaganda was broadcasted across Panem justifying the Hunger Games to the Capitol and reminding the Districts that the odds would never be in their favor. No matter how many tributes were killed each year and no matter how bloody and awful their deaths were, it would never be enough to satisfy the Capitol's insatiable appetite for revenge against the Districts.

No one had kept count of how many tributes had died since the first Hunger Games had started.

At some point, over one thousand children had been killed…and the numbers kept climbing...


	35. Sixth Sense

**35\. Sixth Sense**

 _ **Instincts and Intuition**_

Beetee always knew Wiress had great instincts.

She had a sixth sense of all her surroundings and picked up things very fast. Communicating what she knew didn't always come easy to her or anyone else, but Beetee understood her. Although he prided himself on his intelligence, he truly admired Wiress for the fact that she _knew_ things. He considered her a valuable ally especially when she was able to deduce that the arena was shaped like a clock.

Although she never spoke about how she won the 37th Games, Beetee was certain it was due to Wiress' brilliance and intuition.


	36. Smell

**36\. Smell**

 _ **Stench/Aroma**_

There are certain smells that Katniss always associated with the Hunger Games, no matter how much time had passed. She wondered if it's possible to forget the coppery stench of blood mixed with roses. Or the launch rooms that reek of bleach. She knew she would never forget the rotten odor of human decomposition in District 12 after the Capitol had dropped firebombs. Sour vomit had risen in her throat when the decay overwhelmed her.

Katniss made sure to take in pleasant scents of other aromas to create new happy memories. Peeta's freshly baked bread. Haymitch's pungent alcohol. Effie's light perfume. She found comfort in the musky scent of animals: Prim's goat, Lady, and her cat, Buttercup. Her favorite dish in the Capitol: lamb stew with dried plums—savory and delicious. The woody smell of nature during her hunts with Gale when they were surrounded by the forest. All scents that helped her to smile and get through each day.

Her favorite smell is Peeta. Whenever he returned from the bakery, he was enveloped in cinnamon, nutmeg, flour, dough, and brown sugar. There were other scents, but those were her favorites whenever he came home. She could close her eyes, Peeta could walk into their home, and she would know it's him immediately from a combination of those sweet scents. So when Peeta came back from a long day at the bakery the next evening—and he's completely cleaned up—Katniss frowned.

"What's wrong, Katniss?"

"You don't smell."

Peeta looked at her strangely and sniffed himself. "I left the apron at the bakery and brought a change of clothes with me today."

"Next time, come back with flour, sugar—"

"And cake frosting?" Peeta grinned.

"Yes, lots and lots of cake frosting."

He stared at her for some time with a knowing smirk on his face. "I saved a stash."

"Where?"

"Come and find out."

Peeta left the room and went to their bedroom without looking behind him.

Katniss followed after him. She couldn't wait to breathe in all of him. Consume him. Make love to him…


	37. Sound

**37\. Sound **

_**Reverberate**_

Different sounds evoke different sensations, memories, and feelings for many people in Panem.

For Casear Flickerman, the roars, cheers, and applause from the audience indicate he might've succeeded in helping a tribute gain a sponsor.

For Gale, it's the deafening explosion of firebombs pouring in District 12. His ears rang for several weeks afterwards.

For Peeta, he can still hear the heightened static followed by an amplified thunderclap when Katniss destroyed the arena. He hears that sound in his nightmares, and when he's hijacked, the crashing sounds of the arena collapsing inward make him think he's in the arena again—trapped with no escape.

For Beetee, it's the familiar hum and sizzle of electricity that killed the six tributes hunting for him. The crackling was especially loudest in his mind when he stood in those Districts that were home to those tributes he murdered when he went on his Victory Tour.

For Katniss and Finnick, hearing the Jabberjays' mimicking the yells and cries of their loved ones was absolute torture. They thought the hour would never end.

For Johanna, hearing Peeta's bloodcurding screams during their torture and imprisonment in the Capitol nearly pushed her over the edge. Sometimes she screamed over his voice so that she wouldn't be forced to hear him.

For Annie, it's the sickening _thump_ of her district partner's head hitting the grass after he was beheaded. After that moment, whenever Annie puts her hands over her ears, it's to block out that horrendous sound that echoes in her mind over and over…

For all the surviving Victors…the boom of the cannon will forever be a reminder that they survived when others had died.


	38. Touch

**38.** **Touch**

 ** _Hypervigilance_**

Katniss Everdeen sat alone in the cafeteria of District 13.

The cafeteria was full of District 13 residents, but she didn't know them, nor did she care to find out who they were. As far as she was concerned, they were sheltered and selfish people who had abandoned the rest of the Districts when their support was needed most, but then had the nerve to boo and jeer at Peeta Mellark and call him a "traitor" when he had called for a ceasefire. They were protected for over seventy years while the rest of the Districts paid the price for rebelling against the Capitol. Katniss had no use for them.

She had never felt more alone in her life. She wished Gale or Prim were around to keep her company, but Gale was off with President Coin and Prim was taking care of errands with their mother. So she sat alone, refusing to engage in conversation with anyone else. Being alone was better this way, especially after what she had seen on Capitol TV an hour ago…

She had just seen another interview Peeta had with Caesar Flickerman and every time she felt more afraid for him. _What are they doing to you?_ She wondered. His face appeared long and pale with dark circles around his eyes. His eyes. They were empty. Lifeless. He looked awful and no amount of Capitol make-up could conceal the ugly fact that he was being tortured—and all because of her. She couldn't keep up this Rebel charade. On one hand, she wanted to help the Rebels overthrow the Capitol, but it wasn't worth sacrificing Peeta. Too many people had died already. How many more people would die because of her being the Mockingjay? What if Peeta was killed? It was a question she tried to push to the back of her mind and bury it under happy memories of her and Peeta. The kisses in the arena. The pearl he gave her. The bread that had saved her and her family from starvation.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and almost jumped in response. Katniss whipped around and saw Boggs standing behind her.

"Take it easy, Soldier," Boggs said. "It's just me."

"I'm sorry," Katniss mumbled. She knew she was quick to react and defend herself if necessary. It was one of many emotional effects of participating in two Hunger Games'. She wondered if she would ever completely leave the arena. It seemed the arena and everything that happened there was still with her…and would always remain with her. As she thought about it, she wondered if she should share with Boggs and decided to chance it. "I didn't mean to flip on you…it's the Games." She shook her head, not wanting to continue.

"It's awful that you and so many others were forced to participate in those horrible Games. You volunteered the first time for your sister?" Boggs took a seat and made eye contact with Katniss. His sharp features contrasted with the concern in his voice.

"Yes, for Prim." Katniss cleared her throat. "It's like I'm paranoid or something. Even when Gale came up behind me once, I was startled."

Boggs rested a reassuring hand on Katniss' shoulder. "It's not paranoia, Soldier. It's called _hypervigilance_ and it's understandable after all that you've been through with the Games. The cracking of a branch behind you could mean someone's sneaking up behind you to snap your neck. So now you're on guard for everything. Being hypervigilant is a result from all the fear and anxiety you experienced when being forced into that kill-or-be-killed situation."

"Hypervigilance?" _There's actually a name to describe what I've felt and how I've acted since I've left the arena?_ Katniss couldn't believe it, and yet, something about having an actual label on her new behavior made her feel not so alone. She thought about the other Victors…surely they must've experienced this same reaction after the arena. Finnick. Beetee. Johanna. Peeta...

"Your senses are heightened, you're on guard for any possible threats…" he paused as he gave it more thought. "You're constantly checking your surroundings. Being hypervigilant is an after-effect of everything you've been through. If you weren't that way, then I'd be wondering why that is."

Katniss didn't realize it, but she was nodding in agreement to everything Boggs said. Maybe Boggs could be trusted. He was showing genuine concern for her and he also just demonstrated that he understood her. Not just pretending to understand her, but he really got her. And most importantly, through understanding Katniss, Boggs demonstrated that he really cared for her. If Boggs was one of the few people she could trust at this point in her life, then Katniss was very thankful. She needed to know that someone really cared for her well-being and wasn't looking to manipulate her for their own games.

"That's exactly it," she said. Inwardly, she found herself feeling calmer. She was relieved that she wasn't going crazy, that her reactions now weren't completely out of the blue given everything she had experienced in the past several years. "Thank you for understanding." She managed a small smile for Boggs.

"Anytime, Soldier."

This time, when Boggs laid a protective hand on her shoulder, Katniss didn't react out of fear. She accepted it as a sign that she wasn't alone. For the first time since the Quarter Quell, Katniss believed she had allies she could count on. She felt safe.


	39. Taste

**39\. Taste**

 _ **Delicious is Deadly**_

Foxface's mouth watered when she caught sight of the group of berries laid out on a jacket. She recognized it to be a tribute's jacket. After all, she wore the same kind for the Games.

"Food…" she whispered to herself. Just a handful of berries—but it was better than nothing.

It was impossible to find food in the arena after the Careers' supplies were destroyed. Foxface didn't pride herself on being able to hunt for food and she didn't want to start a fire as it would alert a tribute to her location. The best she had done was avoid other tributes. Her plan had worked. She had managed to stay alive.

She survived.

But how much longer could she live without food? For the past four days, her stomach growled, frustrated with emptiness. She had been able to get water from a nearby stream, but sharp pangs of hunger stabbed at her and she wanted relief so badly. She just needed to eat something—anything. The entire time she wondered if the deadly tournament was called the Hunger Games simply based on how many tributes starved to death.

Then she spotted Peeta as he placed another group of berries on the jacket. He walked away to gather more. Foxface figured Peeta wouldn't miss one or two—or even three berries. She quickly grabbed three of the violet berries and gulped them down.

She had barely registered the bitter taste of the berries when a piercing headache started in her temples and sheer pain rushed throughout her whole body. Foxface's heart stopped before she hit the ground seconds later.


	40. Sight

**40\. Sight**

 _ **Distorted Vision**_

His sight was restored, but he had never been more blind in his entire life. The Capitol had blurred his once clear view of her. Soon it was darkened and what little light was left was obliterated by distortions, nightmares, and terrors.

He heard the door creak open and then her voice spoke softly across the room.

"Peeta?"

He knew not to be fooled by her. Twisted thoughts crept in his mind in a mad whisper: _The Capitol created her to destroy everyone!_ Sure, she might try to entice him with her flaming wedding dress, her singing, her kisses, or her archery skills…but not anymore. Now he knew not to be attracted to her—she was a deadly threat to him and everyone. _She's a liar, a killer, a traitor…she's a mutt!_

He hadn't forgotten what she had done to him in their first Hunger Games. _She tried to kill me with those tracker jackers!_ The image of Katniss using the knife to saw off the branch holding the tracker jackers nest flashed in front of him. _She knew I was under that tree with the Careers!_

What about his family and friends? District 12 obliterated and its residents cremated, burned to death, corpses lying everywhere—the bodies of the Mellark family indistinguishable from the rest of everyone who didn't make it out alive. The quiet whisper now morphed into enraged shouting: _They're all dead because of her…Katniss Everdeen cannot be trusted…Katniss Everdeen is the real enemy…_

Now she stood in front of him and he focused on her. The olive skin and gray eyes. Her braid had been undone so that her hair fell around her shoulders. He recognized her from fragments of his memories of her and him. The so-called Girl on Fire was right in front of him…

 _Kill Katniss Everdeen!_

He knew exactly what he had to do—and he wasted no time in grabbing her throat and tightening his fingers around her skin like an iron vise. He would strangle her so that the Girl on Fire was extinguished for good.

 _She must be stopped…killed…dead…Katniss Everdeen must be dead!_

Those were his last thoughts before Boggs knocked him out and Peeta saw no more.


	41. Shapes

**41.** **Shapes **

**_Amorphous_**

Certain shapes haunted Katniss' dreams whenever she slept. During her waking hours, horrible images flashed across her mind.

Cato, who once stood tall and proud, was nothing more than a pile of pink flesh lying on his back, bloodied and chewed up. The people of District 12 slaughtered from the firebombs, their decayed bodies lumped together, each victim indistinguishable. Bones were scattered everywhere. During the Quarter Quell, a tribute was torn to pieces by an unknown and unseen monster in the jungle.

In all three situations, Katniss tried to focus on who they were before the Capitol condemned them to die. She remembered watching Cato practice in the Tribute Center. He was arrogant, but he was still alive. She reminisced about the Seam, the traders at the Hob, and the children that played in the meadow. The tribute whose name she never knew was someone who joined hands with the tributes in rebellion after Caesar Flickerman finished his interviews. Someone who risked his or her life to ensure Peeta and Katniss made it out of the clock arena alive so that the revolution could unfold.

Cato. District 12's residents. A tribute reaped for the Third Quarter Quell who had survived an earlier Hunger Games. It's better to remember their humanity, than to give in to the awful nightmares that reduce them to unrecognizable shapes.


	42. Triangle

**42.** **Triangle **

**_Love Triangle_**

Katniss supposed it was a mixed blessing that Gale pretended to be her cousin. Bad enough that she and Peeta had to continue the charade for the Capitol and the Districts and also convince President Snow they truly loved each other. If the Capitol knew more about Katniss' life—and they knew more than enough already—what would happen if they knew about Gale?

Gale, her hunting partner. Gale, her childhood friend. Gale, her _cousin_?

She knew the Capitol would devour the scandalous idea of her not just having one star-crossed lover in the arena, but another lover in District 12. She couldn't stand the idea of the Capitol making a love triangle of her situation. And she knew Gale would absolutely hate it. So she went along with idea that she and Gale were cousins.


	43. Square

**43.** **Square**

 ** _Together Everyone Achieves More_**

Effie laughed that weird laugh while she watched the 74th Hunger Games. Haymitch looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face after he finished drinking a glass full of alcohol.

"What's so funny?" His words were slurred and his voice was raspy, but that wasn't the reason for Effie grinning from ear to ear.

"I was just thinking about squares. They have four sides."

Haymitch shrugged, indifferent to Effie's revelation. "Everyone in Panem, including our beloved President Snow, knows squares have four sides. Rectangles have four sides, too."

"I was just thinking that you, myself, Katniss, and Peeta are like a square."

"How so?"

"A square needs four sides to be a square. A square wouldn't be a square without all four sides. We all need each other to be a team. We wouldn't be a team if one of us weren't here."

Haymitch tried to be serious as he knew Effie was sincere in her efforts to identify herself, him, Katniss, and Peeta as a team. Then again, this was Effie, so... It didn't stop him from laughing in her face. "I think the dye in your cotton-candy wig leaked into your brain!" He belched loudly.

Effie pursed her lips in annoyance. "Manners!"

"You would've been better off using our last names to spell out 'team', sweetheart. Let's see, there's Trinket for you, Everdeen for our Girl on Fire, Abernathy for yours truly, and Mellark for our baker's boy."

Haymitch laughed harder when he heard Effie's heels clacking on the floor as she stormed out of the room. He was about to go after her, but decided to let her have a moment alone. Haymitch had worked with Effie long enough to know that she wouldn't stay angry. Sure enough, she came back minutes later, completely calm, and he was more subdued.

"That was really thought out, Effie," Haymitch said. His tone was serious because he wanted her to know he genuinely appreciated her efforts to connect with Katniss, Peeta, and himself. "Nice thinking." He gave her two thumbs up in approval and was glad to see Effie smile in return. There was something beautiful about her smile...it always warmed him up, especially when he felt icy inside.


	44. Circle

**44\. Circle**

 ** _Vicious Cycle of Vengeance_**

The violence had to end.

Katniss didn't say aloud that she agreed with Beetee's assertion that unity was necessary for their survival. He was right, of course: Panem needed to be united. The country had been divided for decades. The Districts had rebelled and fought a bloody war to end the Hunger Games—not repeat it over again with the Capitol's children—or _anyone's_ children for that matter. As the rest of the victors voiced their thoughts on Coin's idea, Katniss remembered why the Hunger Games were created:

It started when District 13 aimed their nukes at the Capitol. The Capitol was ready to retaliate. Then, District 13 and the Capitol struck a deal: 13 would play dead and the Capitol agreed to leave them alone. That was District 13's plan for preservation. The remaining twelve Districts warred against the Capitol and lost.

Rebels died. Capitol citizens were killed.

Then the Hunger Games were in effect for over seventy years. Young innocent children and teens dying at each other's hands while the Capitol sat back and laughed, entertained that their once united foes were now divided and forced to kill each other. Then it turned out District 13 was never gone; they had existed the entire time—and once again, they fought against the Capitol with all the Districts on their side.

The Capitol fell. The Rebels won.

How long would this victory last? What if the Capitol rose again, destroyed the Rebels and Districts again with a fate far worse than the Hunger Games? Katniss didn't think there could be anything more awful than the Hunger Games, but if the Capitol were to rise from the ashes after being defeated in this war, she knows they will make the Districts pay an extremely heavy price. The deadly cycle of vengeance would begin again.

 _Going in circles, history repeats itself,_ Katniss ruminated on her thoughts. She felt disturbed when she realized that everything she and the rebels fought for could be undone by Coin's suggestion of another Hunger Games.

Killing more innocent kids was not the answer to solving Panem's corrupt politics. Repeating what they were fighting against—the Hunger Games—would only ensure constant strife in Panem. There would never be peace—not while Coin is president. The cycle of violence was never-ending…that's when Katniss knew she had to put a stop to all of this senseless bloodshed.

So she voted for another Hunger Games, much to President Coin's approval…


	45. Moon

**45.** **Moon**

 ** _Even the Moon has a Name_**

Rue takes shelter high up in a tree the first night in the arena. After the faces of deceased tributes flash across the sky, she notices the moon. It's perfectly round and brighter than the moon in District 11. Even the surface looks too smooth—it lacks the moon's craters. Rue wonders if the moon in the arena is real and decides it's not. It's fake and superficial, just like the arena she's in. Just like the Capitol with all their phony smiles. Behind their glittering grins are sadistic and cruel people betting on how long she will last in the Games.

Rue shakes her head, refusing to give any more of her thoughts to the Capitol. Better to focus her energy on making it back to her family, on cherishing those she loves, than to waste time on people who have never mattered.

She remembers her home life in District 11. Life was difficult and yet, there were many great times shared with her siblings. The best times was when she and her younger siblings enjoyed watching the different phases of the moon during the month. Being outside at night is forbidden in District 11, but they still managed to do it quietly without Peacekeepers finding out. Full moon, half moon, quarter moon, crescent moon, and new moon. Rue smiles when she thinks of the names her siblings gave the moon depending on its phase.

"Pancake" was for the full moon since it was round and full like a pancake right off the stove. "Hungry" for half moon—this name always made Rue laugh. _It's like the sun was hungry and took a big bite of the moon!_ Rue's younger sister, Anise, explained matter-of-factually her reason for the name "Hungry". Rue wipes a single tear that stung her when she hears Anise's voice in her mind.

The cold air in the arena whips around her, but the memories of her siblings giving the moon funny names warms her heart. She has to remember why she's working hard to get home—so that she can spend time moon-gazing with her favorite people in the world: her siblings.

The quarter moon is christened "Cookie" since Rue's younger brother, Flax, thinks it looks like a cookie from the bakery that he longs to have. "Smiley" for crescent moon, since it appears to be smiling down on Rue and her siblings in District 11. Finally, they gave the nickname "Skinny" to new moon since only a sliver appears in the night sky.

Rue closes her eyes and hopes she will make it back home so that she can give the moon new names. It was one of very few things that gave them joy.


	46. Star

**46.** **Star**

 ** _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_**

Foxface misses seeing the stars sprawled across the night sky at home, District 5.

On the third night in the arena, she hides herself among towering bushes and thick foliage to ensure her safety from the Career tributes that hunt at night. So far, her strategy of avoidance has ensured her survival. She intends to keep using this tactic until she hears the last cannon signaling the final death.

Foxface shakes her head in an attempt to clear her mind. She needs to focus on something other than her survival, although that's almost impossible to do in the arena.

Foxface searches the sky as she thinks of life at home again. She sees a star twinkling in the evening sky and realizes it's the first star she's seen since the Games began. Foxface squints at it and notices the star seems…fixed. It stops twinkling after a few minutes and then disappears. _The first star I've seen here and it's not even real._

She wonders what else about the Hunger Games is artificial.


	47. Heart

**47.** **Heart **

**_Queen of Hearts_**

Katniss brought the letters inside and sat on the floor in the living room. It was a rare occurrence for the Everdeen-Mellark household to receive outside correspondence.

"What's that?" Peeta asked, gesturing to the letters.

"It's from Cressida." Katniss opened the letter and read it aloud. "' _Dear Katniss and Peeta, I hope this letter finds you well. Pollux and I are still working together, documenting life in the Districts now that they are united with the Capitol for the greater good of Panem_ '. _We're putting together a collection of photographs, interviews, and short films from everywhere in Panem—all thirteen Districts and the Capitol. Plutarch's the brains behind the project and he's given us an entire year to complete it from start to finish._ "

She passed it to Peeta and he read the rest. "' _Katniss had mentioned she's making a memory book. I'm hoping she'll add Mesella, Castor, and Pollux. I have some information about them that would help you to know more about them. For starters, we had nicknames for each other based on the four suits in playing cards. During our time in the Capitol, we would play cards whenever we could…it was our own entertainment, completely different from what most Capitol citizens viewed as entertainment._ " He shook his head, knowing exactly what the Capitol used to view as their main source of entertainment. Peeta continued and a smile was present in his voice as he finished the letter. " _I was known as 'Heart', Messalla was 'Diamond', Castor was 'Club' and Pollux was 'Spade'. The guys used to joke around by giving me the nickname 'The Queen of Hearts_ '."

"It fits her," Katniss said. "It took a lot of heart for her to leave the Capitol to join and support the Districts' cause. She risked everything for us and covered for me several times."

Peeta nodded. "That's definitely something to add to the memory book." He searched all four letters and picked out a playing card from each one. "This one is hearts, then we have diamond, club, and spades. You can make a page for each of them."

Katniss agreed. "That's a good idea. Let's check out the rest of these letters."

As she and Peeta poured over them, they noticed each envelop had a suit symbol. A red diamond for Messalla a black club for Castor, and a black spade for Pollux. Cressida, true to her suit heart, has a red heart sticker over her envelop.


	48. Diamond

**48.** **Diamond **

**_Diamond, A Girl's Best Friend_**

Katniss and Peeta took turns reading Cressida's next letter aloud and noted the red diamond playing card.

 _If you remember anything about Messalla, it's probably that he was my quiet assistant during our assignments to film propos for the war. He was also my best friend. Messalla had a thing for diamonds during his days in the Capitol, so we gave him the nickname 'Diamond', but once we ran away to help the Rebels, he dropped the nickname and asked that we only call him by his actual name '_ Messalla _'. He wanted to be removed from the Capitol as much as possible and almost changed his name to something more simple 'Marcus', but then decided to leave it alone._

 _He truly felt it was an honor to meet you, Katniss. He told you this when he first met you, and he meant it. You have to understand that Messalla had watched the Games since he was a child. Like myself, he was raised on the Games and encouraged to look forward to watching it every year. It really was considered the main source of entertainment for Capitol citizens as disgusting as it is._

 _When you volunteered for your sister, Prim, Messalla noticed it right away. Many people in the Districts and the Capitol noticed it too, but I was there firsthand to see Messalla's reaction. He was struck by your sacrifice. For most Capitol citizens, it was "wow, that's sweet", but for Messalla, it was a huge gesture and he had tremendous respect for you. To volunteer in place of your sister, to protect her and ensure she lived, even if you died...that really stood out to him. You didn't volunteer because of the fame that comes from being a Hunger Games Victor, nor was it about being a part of the rebellion. You volunteered out of your love for Prim, something almost unheard of in the Games._

 _It didn't stop there. You gave Rue a peaceful and respectful death. You even had mercy on Cato—the tribute who wanted to kill you the most. Then you were brave enough to defy the Capitol on live TV when they tried to manipulate you and Peeta into killing each other. You can't possibly know what our reactions were to watching you both with the nightlock. He was glad for what you were doing although he couldn't express it to anyone else—of course, we both felt the same way when watching the whole scenario play out. It was a bold and brazen move. Messalla and I knew right away what was going on with those berries. You made a mockery of the Capitol and their control over the Districts by forcing the Gamemakers to let you both live. You were doing something that even Capitol citizens such as ourselves couldn't do outwardly—you were going against their tyranny._

 _We were aware of Plutarch's hand in the Third Quarter Quell and when we saw how it ended with you shooting an arrow into the forcefield: that solidified my decision to leave the Capitol for good. When I approached Messalla to leave the Capitol to join me in aligning with the Rebels, we both ran off and never looked back. He cherished the opportunity to meet and work with the famous Girl on Fire he had heard so much about and seen so much footage of. Finding out that you were an ordinary girl who had acted extraordinary on behalf of so many people…Messalla was in awe. So now you know why he told you '_ it's an honor to meet you' _when I first introduced you to him._

Katniss placed the letter down and picked up the diamond playing card. She turned it over and studied the design, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I never knew the extent of what Messalla felt," she paused as though ashamed for the minimal communication she had with him. "I don't even know what to say."

"It goes back to what I told you before," Peeta said, looking at her. "You have no idea the effect you have on people."


	49. Club

**49.** **Club**

 ** _C is for Castor_**

"I'll make a painting of him to go in our memory book," Peeta said, putting the diamond playing card together with Cressida's letter about Messalla.

"We'll need more pages for our book." Katniss smiled.

"Yeah, I'll start tonight. Let's finish these letters." Peeta picked up a letter that has a club symbol on it, while Katniss took out the club playing card. "I'll read this one." He began reading the letter aloud:

 _Castor earned the nickname "Club" since I had taken Heart and Messalla was Diamond. Pollux loved to play Spades, so we gave him the nickname "Spade". That, and he always spoke his mind before the Capitol made him into an Avox. That left 'Club'. He was fine with it since "club" starts with the letter C and so does his name "Castor" Castor turned it into a joke: 'C is for Castor, that's good enough for me'._

 _Castor hated the Capitol with every inch of his being, especially after what they did to his brother. He told me once why Pollux was turned into an Avox:_

 _It was during the 64_ _th_ _Hunger Games. Castor and Pollux were watching the Games in a well-known Capitol restaurant, Alba's, where many sponsors were present. They just happened to be there, but then again, you have to remember that everyone in Panem—in the Capitol and the Districts—had to watch the Games. When it was down to the last eight tributes, all the sponsors went around determining what items to send to the tributes in the arena, and even taking bets on who would be the final Victor. Castor and Pollux weren't sponsors, but they were still included in the conversation._

 _Pollux made a loud statement that he wouldn't sponsor any tribute—not because he didn't support the tributes, but because he was disgusted with the Hunger Games and all it stood for. Castor said he called it_ "legal murder of innocent kids" _and anyone in the Capitol who enjoyed the Games were_ "depraved" _and_ "twisted". "What if it was **_your_** children in the arena?! Would you cheer as your daughter is being beheaded? Or laugh as your son is drowned for all of Panem to see?!" _He was even bold enough to accuse one sponsor of sending gifts to the tribute that he wanted to sleep with in case she became the Victor—which in fact she did. That year's Games' Victor was Cashmere from District 1._

 _Pollux speaking his mind didn't go over well with the Capitol's top sponsors. The next day, Peacekeepers arrived at his apartment to take him away and ensure he never spoke his mind again. He was made into an Avox—his tongue was cut out and instead of working for Capitol TV, he was forced to work underground in the bowels of the city._

 _Castor worked very hard to get Pollux back above ground. The Capitol put a huge debt on Pollux's head that had to be paid in full in order for him to be able to return to the surface. Pollux was down there for five years and Castor was saving all his money to get him out of there. Those five years solidified Castor's hatred for the Capitol. By the time you and Peeta refused to kill each other in the arena—he was already on board with Plutarch to be involved in the rebellion to overthrow the Capitol. Castor had a score to settle with Snow, with the sponsors, with the Capitol—for the horrible punishment they inflicted on his brother. Filming the propos was his way to broadcast to Panem the ugly truth about the Capitol._

Peeta and Katniss looked at each for several minutes. They had never known the story of how Pollux became an Avox or about Castor's motives for leaving the Capitol to join the rebellion.

Peeta placed the letter down. "Wow…that's intense."

"It is," Katniss agreed. She was silent, digesting Castor's role in the rebellion and what brought him to fight alongside them.

"What are you thinking?" Peeta asked.

Katniss shook her head, trying to formulate a response. "How it's amazing that we had Capitol citizens on our side. In the beginning, I hated everyone from the Capitol. I thought they were all monsters. Then I met Cinna, Effie, Venia, Flavius, Octavia…" She paused as she held back tears and then continued. "Plutarch, Cressida, Messalla, Pollux…Castor." She stopped, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Portia," Peeta added, tears glistening in his eyes now.

They sit for some time, thinking about the Capitol citizens who risked everything for two tributes-turned-victors/rebels from District 12. The silence served as a way to honor the memories of all the Capitol citizens who respected their humanity.


	50. Spade

**50.** **Spade**

 ** _Call a Spade a Spade_**

"Last one, Katniss," Peeta said, as he opened it. He scanned the letter briefly and removed a card of spades. "You may want to read this one."

Katniss took the letter and read the top portion with Cressida's handwriting. _"'Pollux insisted on writing his own letter to you both, although it's mainly addressed to Katniss'."_

"That's interesting. What did he write?"

"Let's find out," Katniss started _._

 _"'To the Girl on Fire with the beautiful voice: I earned the nickname 'Spade' because I love the card game 'Spades' and because I tell it like it is. So my nickname fit me to a tee. Where to begin? I'll always remember your beautiful song "The Hanging Tree". If I still had my voice, I would've sang along you that day in District 12. I still hear you singing it when Cressida and I go from District to District filming and documenting the after-effects of the war._

 _I speak for all of us: Cressida, Messalla, Castor, and myself when I say it was truly an honor to fight alongside the Rebels—to be on the side of Katniss Everdeen during the war. President Snow made it punishable by death to be your friend, and at that point, what more could the Capitol do to me? They cut out my tongue for telling it like it is during the 64_ _th_ _Hunger Games. I would be your friend to the end, Katniss, even if it meant my death._

 _True, I lost Castor, but I know he's never truly gone—he's always with me just as I know Prim is always with you. I'm sure they both would've wanted all of us to keep fighting until the Rebels were victorious. And we were—we won and there are no more Hunger Games. Now, for the first time in more than seventy years, the Capitol and the Districts are actually a united nation. I never thought I'd live long enough to see that day and now it's here. It's real. It means Castor's death wasn't in vain. I hope you feel the same way about Prim. It means all the tributes' lives, all the Rebels' lives, everyone who fought to bring about change—it was meaningful._

 _So I just want to say, thank you, Katniss, and thank you, Peeta, for being in my life. For making it worthwhile to be in the rebellion so we can live to see a better Panem. A Panem where Capitol and District citizens are treated equally. I would do everything all over again if it meant we would have the same result. Thank you."_

Katniss put the letter down.

"He once had a voice and then they took it away," Peeta said, quietly.

"That shows how awful the Capitol is," she paused and then amended her thoughts "or _was_."

"Who would've thought a bunch of nightlock berries would change the face of Panem."

"Not me…I just wanted us both to leave the arena alive."

Peeta looked thoughtfully at Katniss as he reflected on the final second line in Pollux's letter. "If you had to do it over again…would you pull out the nightlock?"

Katniss met Peeta's eyes and then shifted away as she focused her attention to the spade card. "I'm not sure…I want to say yes because there are no more Hunger Games. Then I feel it's more of 'no' because I lost Prim, you lost your entire family, Pollux lost his brother…so many losses…"

Her voice trailed off. She tried to look at Peeta again and started crying. Sometimes Katniss felt overwhelmed when she thought about all they had lost in order to gain their freedom. Peeta joined her on the couch and held her close to him. After some time, they fell asleep in each other's arms. The letters with the corresponding cards lay on the floor.

 **oOo**

At the end of week, Peeta completed four separate portraits of Cressida, Messalla, Castor, and Pollux. He painted them as playing cards. He then made a full one with all four in the same picture. In the corner of each individual portrait is the playing card symbol they are associated with. Heart for Cressida, Diamond for Messalla, Club for Castor, and Spade for Pollux.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who is reading! We've reached the halfway point. 50 down and 50 more to post. I hope you will continue to enjoy the ficlets/drabbles/one-shots/vignettes!


	51. Water

**51\. Water**

 ** _Annie's Element_**

The water was a welcoming sight for Annie in the 70th Hunger Games. Up until that point, her best option was to stay hidden to preserve her life. Four days later, when the ground shifted and rumbled beneath her feet, she wondered if the earthquake was planned by the Gamemakers—it wasn't. The Games were disrupted as a dam exploded and water flooded the arena.

The sudden onslaught of water was terrifying for the rest of the living tributes who didn't know how to swim. Water was their end. They drowned as water filled up their lungs, and soon, their dead bodies were seen floating in the arena. The depths of the flood were enormous, but Annie was fully in her element being that she's from District 4. She may as well have been a fish in her past life.

Aside from the freak earthquake that helped the odds be in her favor, Annie wanted to get far away from the Hunger Games as much as possible. She knew she'd never be able to separate herself from the cruel water jokes. She expected it to be this way for the rest of her life. Before she went on her Victory Tour, Annie had an interview with Caesar Flickerman who made a tongue in cheek joke about water: _"I bet you've seen enough water to last a lifetime"_ and _"does a cup of water refresh or repulse you, now that the Games are over?"_

She remained silent when he asked her those questions, but forced herself to smile and nod when he complimented her superb swimming skills.


	52. Fire

**52.** **Fire **

**_Burned Out_**

 _Katniss was too close to the flames. A burning sensation crept along her skin. She touched her braid and realized it had been singed. She bore witness to an awful sight in front of her. A young girl was completely engulfed in fire. A human torch. There was nothing that could be done for the girl. Katniss opened her mouth to scream._

 **oOo**

Katniss woke up and sat upright in her bed. She touched her skin, feeling old scars. Her braid was intact. Next to her, Peeta slept soundly. Katniss blinked in the darkness, willing herself to see if what she had just seen—was it real? No, it wasn't real right now. The horror was real years ago, although sometimes it returned in her nightmares, forcing her to relieve it again:

She had seen Prim killed in front of her. And she had literally became "The Girl on Fire" on that fateful day when the Capitol fell.

Katniss willed herself to lay back down again. She curled up into a fetus position and grabbed a pillow to hold onto. Katniss closed her eyes, and tried to make herself go to sleep again. She knew from past experience, she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for the rest of the night. Instead, she let her mind wander backwards into the past.

Ever since she was given the title of "The Girl on Fire", thanks to Cinna's costumes from her first and second Hunger Games' Opening Ceremony—Katniss had never been able to remove herself from the association with fire. She remembered running through the forest that had turned into a red and furious blaze. She knew the Gamemakers had made the forest fire happen. It was a fake fire, but her terror was real. When they launched fireballs at her, Katniss thought they wanted to burn her alive for all of Panem to see. As a sick and twisted joke to go with her new moniker.

Katniss' burns had healed over time, but the marks on her body always reminded her of the day that she finally burned out. She would always be haunted by the horrible image of Prim burning alive. No matter how much time had passed and what she did to get the visual out of her mind, it remained there forever.

Sometimes she distracted herself by playing with Buttercup. Other times, she and Peeta went to the new Hob so she could sell squirrels and rabbits to Greasy Sae. Earlier, Peeta had taken her up to the roof of their house to watch the sunset after he baked her fresh bread. He did everything he could to make Katniss feel safe and loved. Visiting with Haymitch, talking to her mother on the phone, receiving letters from Annie, seeing Effie from time to time helped Katniss to cope better.

Still, whenever she woke up from a vivid nightmare like the one she just had, she is reminded of her hatred of fire.


	53. Earth

**53.** **Earth **

**_Natural Beauty_**

Katniss sat down on a fallen log in the forest. She had come here to hunt dinner for her and Peeta. Haymitch was more than welcome to come over and they always made sure to save him a bottle of liquor, vodka—even if the concoction came from the new Hob, Haymitch was thrilled. She placed her bow and arrow down beside her and allowed herself to sit back and relish the moment.

There was nothing like being in the quiet forest by herself. She could hear the mockingjays chirping and singing to each other, the gentle padding of rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, and other forest creatures running along the ground. A slight wind passed through the forest, causing the leaves to tremble. Katniss enjoyed her solitude in the forest; it gave her peace of mind.

Katniss dug into the earth with her boot. She stared thoughtfully at the brown dirt and reached down to run her fingers through the cool dark soil. It was moist and soft as it had rained earlier in the day. Katniss closed her eyes. She was always reminded of Cinna when she touched earth. Earth, the forest, nature… of everyone she had met in the Capitol, Cinna was the most natural. He was real.


	54. Air

**54.** **Air**

 ** _The Arrow and The Smoke_**

Gale would always remember the night Katniss shot her arrow into the arena's forcefield. He had been watching the Games with everyone else from District 12 in front of the Justice Building. Prim and Mrs. Everdeen were by his side.

Her expression was determined and he had seen that focused look in her eyes many times when they had hunted together—but this was different. There was raw fury in her gray eyes. Later on, he would question himself if Katniss knew what she was doing when she shot that arrow. Did she realize the ramifications of her actions? Her arrow flew into the air, graceful, with accurate direction, and purpose. The screen burst into a bright electric blue. A brief sizzling followed by a loud bang as the force-field short-circuited, and then total blackness. Finally, dead silence.

Everyone waited, unsure as to what happened. There were murmurings in the crowd. Children asked their parents what had happened. There were no answers. Adults in the crowd looked at each other, shrugged, and waited. Gale saw the bewildered reactions from Greasy Sae and others from the Hob. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim looked frightened. Their eyes were wide and glued to the empty screen.

"EVERYONE—GO BACK TO YOUR HOMES—NOW!"

Gale looked around him and saw Peacekeepers surrounding everyone, ushering them like cattle. Forcing them to go back to their homes. District 12 citizens rushed away from the Justice Building, some looking over their shoulders, and others hurrying along to avoid getting struck by a Peacekeeper's gun. The Third Quarter Quell was completely forgotten about.

Gale waited inside his home with the rest of his siblings. All was strangely silent. He couldn't recall a night when it had been so quiet. Then he heard the familiar rumbling of the Peacekeepers' vehicles driving past their home. Past their home—Gale went outside and noticed the vehicles getting smaller, the motors becoming quieter. They were leaving District 12?! He had no time to question why they were leaving, but he knew he had to act fast.

Banging on his neighbor's door, Gale tried to be patient. He ran to the window when there was no immediate response. "FIALA!"

He thought he saw Fiala running into another room with her daughter, Ruza. Gale punched the door with a clenched fist. He felt frustrated because he didn't have the luxury of time. He would have to try the next home…

For the next fifteen minutes, Gale and other miners went from home to home, begging and pleading for people to follow them to the fences. Some were too frightened to leave and Gale had to leave them and go to the next home just as he had done when he tried to get Fiala to come with him. He had very little time and they were acting as fast as they could.

It wasn't long before firebombs dropped onto District 12. The explosions were deafening and louder than any thunder Gale had ever heard in his life. Dark smoldering smoke clouded the air. It was painful to breathe and his lungs burned, but he had to get District 12's people to safety. Gale witnessed sights that would haunt him for the rest of his life: a young mother burning alive while her daughter stood nearby screaming…a teenage boy dragging his crippled grandfather to safety, only for both young and old to be engulfed in the firebomb's flames…

In the end, he succeeded in getting 915 out of 10,000 people to safety—District 13, their new home. He wanted to save everyone. It was impossible. He wanted to do more, but he couldn't.

That would soon change.

When it was time to fight, he was more than ready to eliminate the evil that destroyed his entire District just because they had the power to do so. Gale was more than willing to wage war against the Capitol who had no problem sending his best friend to the Hunger Games to be entertained as she fought for her life. Gale knew he could finally act on his beliefs to safeguard Panem from any more depraved acts the Capitol would do against him and everyone else he loved.


	55. Spirit

**55.** **Spirit **

**_Remembering Those Who Died_**

Ten years after the war is over, Katniss learns from Plutarch that the arenas where the 74th and 75th Hunger Games were held have been destroyed. In actuality, _all_ of the arenas had been obliterated, but those two were the most significant to her since it's where she experienced her Games'.

She decides to go by herself to see where the arenas once stood. She doesn't think Peeta has the heart to go and she doesn't want to put him through that. Although the tracker jacker venom's effects have ceased long ago, sometimes he reacts to a flashback that only he sees and experiences in his mind. Bringing him to where both arenas once stood where he was a tribute might be too traumatic and bring him back to that time. He may not be able to discern what's real and what's not real. Katniss doesn't want to risk that on Peeta. It's too painful for him. She won't even tell him where she's going. She simply says she's visiting her mother in District 4 for the weekend and he doesn't question it. It's better that way.

The hovercraft lands and Katniss departs. She doesn't walk too far into the area and is surprised to find memorials of the tributes who were slain. All the tributes from every District are listed. She takes the time to read each name aloud, including those she hadn't known at the time during her first Games:

"District 1, Marvel and Glimmer. District 2, Cato and Clove. District 3, Quark and Tesla. District 4, Rio and Delma. District 5, Copper and Finch." She pauses when she remembers the nickname she gave District 5's female tribute: _Foxface._ "District 6, Axel and Rocket. District 7, Aspen and Wren. District 8, Calico and Paisley. District 9, Granger and Zea. District 10, Ari and Leona. District 11, Thresh and Rue."

She steps back, feeling overwhelmed that she named all twenty-two tributes who didn't make it out of the arena alive. That thought leads her to the realization that she's standing in the place where the 74th Hunger Games arena once stood. She recognizes the green fields and the streams. She visits the cave where she performed the star-crossed lovers' story for the Capitol audience—never realizing at the time where it would lead her and Peeta. She comes upon an overgrown patch of flowers and is reminded of Rue. She goes to a huge open green area—it must be where the Cornucopia once stood.

Katniss thinks about the tributes she had met that year. Cato…if their lives were different and there were no Hunger Games, would they've been friends? Would Rue be able to meet Prim? Katniss could see the two girls being the best of friends. Would Katniss teach Clove how to hunt, how to skin a rabbit with her many knives? What would Thresh being doing if he were still alive? Would Glimmer be featured in the Capitol's fashion line? How about Marvel and Foxface? She even remembers her stylist, Cinna, his kind nature and his way of expressing his true feelings through fashion. Cinna, the quiet rebel and true friend.

She wonders if the spirits of those who died—Rue, Thresh, Cato, Clove, Foxface, Glimmer, Marvel and so many other tributes whose names she just found out for the first time—if they can see that their final resting place, once used to entertain Capitol masses, have now been turned into a quiet and solemn memorial ground. It's the right thing to do and in fact, she thinks it's the _only_ thing the Capitol can do to make amends: take the grounds of a bloodbath and turn them into a serene place of eternal rest. As she boards the hovercraft to return to District 12, Katniss' one wish is that all of their spirits are at peace.


	56. Breakfast

**56.** **Breakfast**

 ** _The Capitol's Decadence_**

President Snow liked to start off the Hunger Games by hosting a lavish breakfast. After the tributes were launched into the arena, everyone was invited back to the President's mansion. He had everyone flown in via hovercraft. Stylists, prep teams, mentors, escorts, and the wealthiest of the Capitol's citizens (who were potential sponsors), were invited to join the festivities.

This was Cinna's first Games and it was his first time in the President's mansion for the immense meal. The banquet table stretched on forever and he couldn't see where it ended. He wasn't hungry, although he admitted to himself that he was tempted by the pitchers of brightly colored juices, sweet aroma of breads and syrups, plates of sausages, bacon, piles of pancakes, French toast, baskets of fresh fruit, and never-ending supply of every type of breakfast food imaginable.

"Why don't you guys go on ahead," he told Octavia, Flavius, and Venia. They came together to President Snow's party. Portia would be there, too. "I'll join you in a little while."

They exchanged an uneasy glance and then looked back at Cinna.

"Are you sure?" Octavia asked.

Cinna nodded. They watched him carefully, unsure if they should leave him alone. "I'll be fine, I just want to settle in."

Flavius led the way and Octavia trailed behind him. Venia followed soon after and looked over her shoulder at Cinna again. They knew he was worried about Katniss being in the Games. It didn't help that a gigantic flat screen broadcasted the Games. At the bottom of the screen was a tally of tributes already dead from the bloodbath. Cinna refused to look at it. _I'm still betting on you, Girl on Fire,_ he thought. He knew Katniss was still alive. _She's too smart to get killed in the bloodbath._ _Haymitch probably warned her to get out of there as soon as the Games began._ A small smile flashed across his face: Cinna felt proud to be Katniss Everdeen's stylist.

He looked around and was both astounded and repulsed by the living definition of decadence and greed. He had never seen so much food and drink. There were mountains of all sorts of Capitol delicacies…enough to feed three Districts for an entire year. It would be wasted in the Capitol. An Avox silently provided him a small flask. He was being encouraged to indulge. The other stylists brought into it and Cinna figured they never questioned it. _Capitol drones,_ he thought, annoyed and saddened at the same time.

"What's this?" he asked as he examined the flask. He watched as another Avox provided the same flasks to the other stylists.

"It's an elixir," Quintina said, as she piled food on her plate and sat next to Maximus. Cinna recognized them; they had worked with District 1 tributes for the past five years. He remembered them from watching previous Games. "You drink it so that you can throw up when you're full and have more food to eat."

Cinna made every effort not to cringe. He couldn't fathom eating all this food, especially when Katniss and the other tributes were starving in the arena or killing each other to stay alive.

"I don't need it." He handed the elixir to Maximus, who eagerly snatched it.

"Thanks, Cinna. I'll be right back."

Cinna watched Maximus rush out of the elaborately decorated ballroom. It was gaudy and Cinna tried to figure out the best word to describe it. _Stuffy._ The number "74" is emblazoned on all the banners to remind the stylists that they were here to celebrate the 74th Hunger Games. _There's nothing to celebrate,_ Cinna thought. He looked across the ballroom and saw Portia sitting with other stylists. He could tell Portia wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere but Snow's mansion. She sat with Alba and Nero, District 7's stylists, and appeared to smile to whatever they were telling her. When they pointed at images of tributes running across the mammoth screen, she nodded with little enthusiasm. Cinna knew she pretended to enjoy herself. Pretended to enjoy the heaps of food. Pretended to be happy that she was there to see Peeta get killed.

The rest of the stylists were a blur to him. All of them enjoyed the lavish breakfast President Snow provided. None of them—save for him and Portia—expressed concern that the tributes were dying, hiding, or struggling to survive. Well, of course they couldn't openly express it or it would mean their immediate execution. Cinna knew very well that Snow didn't allow for any opposition or dissent.

Still…they sat there and laughed, without a care that the teen they had prepped up for the Capitol audience…this same teenager was facing death every minute they remained alive in the Hunger Games. Their obliviousness infuriated Cinna. The fact that young lives were disposed of so cruelly by the Capitol, yet Capitol citizens claimed to value life. It was a mockery and hypocritical. Cinna didn't think he would be able to force himself to come here year after year for each Games—especially not next year during a Quarter Quell. He knew Quells were far worse and bloodier than the usual Games.

He searched the grand room for Haymitch and Effie. After passing through several drunk stylists, he found them sitting with a Capitol couple, both sported neon green hairdos, elaborate gold and silver outfits, and make-up that looked as though it was tattooed on their delicate skin. Cinna realized that Haymitch was securing sponsors. For Katniss or for Peeta, he wasn't sure which, but Cinna was glad to know Haymitch was doing his best to ensure one of them walked out of the arena alive.

The cacophony of voices suddenly quieted down and Cinna glanced around to see what brought about the change. He noticed Alba and Nero exchanging knowing smirks. For the first time, Cinna saw President Snow take center stage as he strode into the banquet hall. Panem's president was dressed in a pearly white suit. The white rose adorned on his suit jacket was almost difficult to distinguish from the whiteness of his suit. But it's wasn't President Snow that had Alba and Nero making scornful glances.

It was the sight of a stylist who hasn't been seen in the Hunger Games for years.

In the middle of the decorated hall stood a middle-aged woman whose face had been surgically altered to resemble a tiger. Her skin had an orange tint. Gold and black stripes decorated her face. The whiskers looked as though they had been plucked from an actual tiger and surgically attached to her face. Her eyes were shiny green, catlike.

"You weren't on the guest list, Tigris," President Snow said. "I don't know who gave you an invitation, but you're not welcome here. You have gone too far in your appearance. I only permit the most beautiful stylists to enter my mansion. Never return here again."

Two Peacekeepers immediately escorted Tigris out of the hall in front of everyone. Cinna forced himself to not cover his ears when the booming sound of applause flooded the banquet hall. He was disgusted to see everyone clapping at the public humiliation of Tigris, a stylist who was once highly spoken about in the stylists' circles. Cinna folded his arms across his chest, refusing to participate in celebrating her embarrassing dismissal. Soon, Tigris was gone and everyone went back to eating, laughing, and drinking.

Cinna shook his head, deeply disturbed by the scene that he just witnessed. He knew he shouldn't openly disagree with President Snow. To do so meant his own death, but Cinna knew he couldn't keep pretending he enjoyed or supported President Snow's reign of terror.

When he turned around again, his eyes met the cold snakelike eyes of President Snow himself. They were across the banquet hall from each other, but from President Snow's steely glare, Cinna felt as though President Snow was right in front of him. When President Snow lifted a glass with a blue drink to toast, Cinna mimicked the gesture as he quickly found a wine glass on a nearby table to lift in the air. Together, they drank at the same time, neither one taking their eyes off the other.

Cinna knew at that exact moment that this was the first and last time he would ever attend President Snow's lavish breakfast banquet for the Hunger Games.


	57. Lunch

**57.** **Lunch**

 ** _Katniss and Rue Break Bread Together_**

Rue was excited to share lunch with Katniss!

They made a delicious and savory meal from the groosling. Rue hadn't eaten much food in the arena, save for some nuts, greens, and berries. When was the next time Rue would have lunch together with Katniss? It would never happen again, so she savored the opportunity to enjoy their alliance and new friendship—however short-lived it may be.

Rue wondered if the other tributes were able to eat. Peeta? Foxface? The Careers were definitely feasting on their supplies. Rue remembered telling Thresh she would align with Katniss and here she was eating lunch with the Girl on Fire—and not getting burnt in the process! Rue smiled when she thought about it.

Katniss noticed. "What's on your mind?"

Rue froze. Should she tell Katniss what she was thinking? For a split second, she thought: what if Thresh was right? Then again…she trusted her. She knew Katniss was different from the rest of the tributes. Her wearing the Mockingjay pin proved that. She decided to be transparent.

"It's just I told Thresh—he's my district partner—I told him I'd align myself with you."

Katniss' eyes widened. She was clearly surprised by this revelation.

"And he told me to be careful…you're the 'Girl on Fire'…I could get burned."

Katniss chuckled. "I won't burn you, Rue. You…you remind me of someone back at home."

Now it was Rue's turn to be shocked. "I do?!" She was glad Katniss was being open with her.

"Yes, you remind me of my little sister, Prim."

Rue drew in her breath. She remembered watching the reaping from District 12. Rue was young, but she had never seen anything like it in her life—where an older sibling sacrificed themselves for their younger siblings. She had seen a handful of Hunger Games' growing up and whenever someone volunteered, it was usually from a Career District where entering the Games was seen as bringing pride to their people. Katniss was different—in volunteering for Prim's place, she was keeping her younger sister alive although it may cost her life. Rue was the oldest child in the family…there was no one that could take her place. She was embarrassed to tell Katniss that she didn't know if she would place herself ahead of her sibling if they were reaped for the Games.

"You're a good older sister," Rue choked out. She stared at the groosling that Katniss had shared with her.

Katniss shrugged. "I did what anyone else would've done."

"That's not true, Katniss. You're different…I believed in you once I saw you wearing the pin."

"This?" Katniss pointed at the Mockingjay pin.

Rue nodded. She couldn't bring herself to speak aloud and before she could answer, tears were sliding down her face. She closed her eyes as Katniss wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Hey…you don't have to cry. I meant it…you remind me of Prim back at home."

Rue sniffled and forced herself to respond. "You're like the older sister I never had. I saw what you did for her…and wished I had someone like you. I'm the oldest of my siblings."

Katniss gently turned Rue around so that they were facing each other. "I'll do whatever I can to protect you, Rue. You don't have to worry."

Rue closed her eyes and embraced Katniss. Katniss rested her chin on Rue's shoulder, allowing the younger girl to embrace the warmth and protection she had sensed since first watching the Girl On Fire.


	58. Dinner

**58.** **Dinner **

**_Gale Provides_**

Gale knocked on the door of the Everdeen household two nights into the Games. _"Don't let them starve!"_ Katniss called out to him before she was whisked away to the Capitol. Her words and pleading tone echoed in his mind as the door opened. Prim stood on the other side, shocked to see Gale. Her blue eyes met Gale's gray eyes. He brightened when he saw her smile.

"Come inside, Gale."

"Thank you." He stepped through the doorway and into the Everdeen home.

Prim tried not to be eager when she saw what was in Gale's hands. Three dead squirrels and a roll of bread. "Is that for…?"

"It's for you and Mom," he said, trying to force a smile. "I promised your sister that I would care for you both."

Prim nodded. She knew Katniss and Gale were close friends. Either Katniss had asked Gale to watch over them, or Gale was taking it upon himself to do so. Either way, Prim was glad to see him. Gale was a welcome distraction from having to watch the Games. She hugged Gale, and felt herself relax when she felt his hand squeeze her shoulder affectionately.

"You know I would never let anything happen to you, Prim."

She stepped back, releasing the hug. "I know. Mom will be glad to see you." She went ahead of him to find her mother.

Gale closed the door and watched as Prim went into the next room. He knew Prim meant _everything_ to Katniss and he would do anything within his power to honor his promise to provide for them. Katniss didn't want Prim signing up for tesserae, even though it meant having extra grain and oil. It wasn't worth having Prim's name entered into the Reaping bowl more times.

As he sat down to help them make dinner, he wondered about the Games. As selfish as it sounded, he didn't mind if others were killed—as long as it meant Katniss walked out of that dreaded arena alive, that's all that mattered. And the entire District would bestowed the Year of Plenty. It doesn't turn his stomach into knots when he thought about it. It was a cold reality: killing tributes, winning the Games, meant Katniss's family, his family, and all of District 12 could have full bellies for dinner instead of scrounging around for a meal.

At the same time, the irony of having to kill others to ensure survival made Gale's _heart_ tighten with rage that Katniss was fighting for her life every waking second. He hated that she had to be in that arena and that Prim had been reaped in the first place. If he could, he'd put all the Capitol's children in there to fight to the death—let the Capitol see what it's like to feel terrified for the lives of their loved ones while the rest of the nation watched. The rage was a quiet ember and tiny spark inside him, but it was lit, and eventually it would catch fire. Right now, he had to channel that anger into ensuring Prim and Mrs. Everdeen were well-cared for in Katniss' absence. Another time, he would have a chance to release all his anger against the Capitol. Tonight, he would make the most of his time with the family of the girl he loved.


	59. Food

**59.** **Food**

 ** _The District and Capitol Unity Act_**

Katniss remembered after she and Peeta were crowned the Victors of the 74th Hunger Games, District 12 enjoyed the Year of Plenty. For the first time since she could remember, starvation wasn't an issue in District 12. That was a year, maybe two years, ago. Now the war is over, District 12 is slowly coming to life again with a new Hob, some residents returned from District 13, and the meadow is green again.

Katniss heard a knock on her door one morning. As she approached the door, she wondered who was on the other side. She and Peeta received visitors every now and then from Haymitch and Greasy Sae. Sometimes Effie visited, but she would always contact them first since she stayed for several weeks at a time, sometimes an entire month.

She opened the door and was shocked to see two formally dressed ambassadors: Ardisia Locke from District 12 and Magnus Solo from the Capitol. She knew they were ambassadors simply by their clothing and the name badges they wore. A month ago, Paylor had put into effect the District and Capitol Unity Act. The _District and Capitol Unity Act_ entailed each District nominating an ambassador to represent them and the Capitol also voted on an ambassador to represent them. The ambassadors were paired together and held the responsibility of maintaining amiable connections between the Capitol and Districts. Altogether, there were thirteen pairs of ambassadors in Panem with thirteen ambassadors from each District.

Ardisia was a tall young woman, who looked to be about twenty-five years old. She had long auburn hair that flowed freely down her back and delicate facial features. Katniss wondered if she had been from the merchant area of District 12 as she had pale skin and blue eyes similar to Peeta. Her co-ambassador from the Capitol, Magnus Solo, looked about ten years older, and had dark hair with natural gray streaks. Magnus had sharp facial features and a warm smile.

"May we come in?" Ardisia asked. "We promise not to take up too much of your time."

Katniss nodded and opened the door. Peeta came behind her. "What's going on?"

"We wanted to share with you and Katniss about President Paylor's new plans," Magnus said. "Being that you and Katniss are the most well-known residents in your District, we," he gestured to Ardisia, "felt it best to share with you first."

"Oh okay," Peeta said. "You can sit in the living room." He exchanged a concerned look with Katniss. They were aware of their status as "the most well-known residents"…previous tributes, Hunger Games' Victors, and rebels in the war. They wanted to live a quiet normal life, if being "normal" was something obtainable after everything they've been through.

Ardisia Locke and Magnus Solo joined them. Ardisia started. "As you know, President Paylor recently signed the _District and Capitol Unity Act_ which is why we're here today. Magnus and I have been working together to discuss District 12's needs and what the Capitol can do to provide assistance."

"There's no limit as to how we can help meet the needs of the community in 12," Magnus added. "One of President Paylor's main goals is to eliminate hunger and starvation in all the Districts. Even the wealthier Districts have pockets of poverty. I believe there was once a placed called the 'Hob' once in District 12?"

Peeta looked at Katniss, surprised that Magnus knew about it.

"Yes, it's like a black market," Katniss answered. "It was a place where residents could trade and get much needed items. Some of District 12's residents began building a new one."

"Right and we'd like to discuss with you about expanding the Hob or an additional market if needed. But first…Ardisia, would you like to take over from here?"

Ardisia jumped right in. "The new initiative from President Paylor involves having the Capitol share their wealth with the Districts. This is to end the hunger issues and also bring Capitol and District citizens together. Before the week is over, Magnus and I would like to work with District 12's residents to oversee building new homes, and also set up a station for everyone to get food packages. Once we get the approval from you and Peeta, Magnus will recruit volunteers from the Capitol to help out."

Peeta smiled. "You have my vote. Anything that's good for District 12 is good for me. Katniss?" He looked at Katniss, was amazed by what the ambassadors had shared with them.

"I'm all for it. I'll let the residents know." She smiled and was surprised that it wasn't forced. Her warmth towards Ardisia Locke and Magnus Solo was heartfelt and she was curious to know how their proposal would unfold.

 **oOo**

The following week, Katniss and Peeta took a walk to the new Hob and saw the long line forming outside. The new Panem flag waved in the air. Several people dressed in outlandish fashion were setting up tables heaping with food. Katniss immediately knew they were Capitol citizens. Aside from their accents, Katniss was able to identify the Capitol citizens by their clothes. Ardisia and Magnus were nearby, directing both Capitol citizens and District 12 residents as they set up boxes of clothes and blankets covered with toys and candy.

Katniss watched as a young Capitol citizen—probably a teenager, gave a canned plum soup to a seven year old District 12 citizen. One well-dressed Capitol citizen and a District 12 coalminer shake hands. She realized it wasn't about the food, but about the unity and collaboration for the first time between the Capitol and District 12. The healing between the Capitol and District 12 was remarkable and somehow, both Peeta and Katniss knew this would be the way things were from now on.

"This is really something," Peeta said. "I never thought we'd live to see this."

Katniss smiled. "Panem is finally free."


	60. Drink

**60.** **Drink**

 ** _Haymitch Has No Idea_**

The night before the reaping of the 74th Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy sat alone in his house at Victors Village. It was that time of year again and he couldn't avoid it—no one could. Dread overwhelmed him for what awaited him the following morning. The reaping. Two teenagers who would wish their names had never been chosen. Two tributes would be sent to their deaths—and there's nothing Haymitch could do to prevent it from happening.

He stared at the wine glass before gulping down the alcohol. It burned his throat, but helped him to muddle through what would be another ordeal. He hated this "mentoring business"—training innocent kids only to watch them get killed in the arena. He considered suggesting suicide to both tributes, but he knew the Capitol would not find it believable or entertaining. It would only succeed in getting him and their families in huge trouble with the Capitol. Deadly trouble…Haymitch wiped his eyes, refusing to cry at the memory of what happened to his family and girlfriend after his Games.

In the back of his mind, he had a sliver of hope that these Games would be different this year. Maybe he would get a tribute with a fighting spirit and a minuscule chance of walking out of the arena alive. It would give District 12 some hope and grant him some company: a fellow mentor, a drinking partner.

"Misery loves company," he said to himself as he poured himself another glass of alcohol.

Maybe…just once...the odds would be in District 12's favor. Maybe they would have another Victor. Or even better, there would be a tribute who bucked against the system and showed the Capitol that they couldn't continue to kidnap and murder the Districts' children without facing repercussions for it. Haymitch smiled grimly and twirled the glass in his hand. Then he frowned at the idealism he allowed himself to feel for that tiny moment.

"Not gonna happen."

He swallowed the drink down fast and threw the glass against the wall. It shattered loudly and he didn't bother to clean up the shards off the floor. Why bother? Haymitch made a note to do extra drinking this year on the ride to the Capitol. It would help numb himself from what he's come to expect every year: walk into the Capitol with two living tributes and walk out alone at end of the Games. Effie Trinket would be by his side, but he wasn't focused on her. He thought about how another bunch of kids would get slaughtered. He didn't want to imagine how they would meet their end in the arena. Just more of the same: inevitable blood and death, and alcohol to stifle the inner turmoil that threatened to drown him.

This year would be no different…


	61. Winter

**61.** **Winter **

**_Memories of Snow and Coal_**

Octavia remembered when Effie brought her and Flavius to Victors Village after Katniss' and Peeta's first Hunger Games victory.

 _"_ _You'll get used the smell."_ Effie had said, after taking a whiff of burning coal mixed with winter snow.

But Octatvia never got used to the smell because she never returned to Victors Village in District 12 after the rebellion. In fact, she never got used to not seeing Katniss again after the war was over.

Octavia truly missed Katniss Everdeen. Whenever it snowed in the Capitol, she's reminded that she had the honor of being part of her prep team.


	62. Spring

**62.** **Spring**

 ** _A New Marriage, A New Life Together_**

 _I – Peeta Proposes_

Katniss knew something was up when Haymitch came over to babysit the kids. Now she and Peeta were in the woods. He stopped in front of a tall oak tree and got down on one knee.

"This is how they used to do it." Peeta smiled and took Katniss' hand. "Katniss, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Katniss was shocked, overjoyed. "You don't have to ask me!"

Peeta rose to his feet. Katniss hugged him.

"There's one thing…I'd like to keep my last name…it's the only part of my father that I have left…"

"Absolutely, Katniss."

 **oOo**

 _II – Wedding Plans_

"Peeta and I would like our wedding to take place in the springtime."

Mrs. Everdeen nodded, still surprised that her daughter was getting married.

"That's wonderful!" Effie gushed.

"It's my favorite time of the year. Spring's about rebirth, love, hope. All things new."

"Perfect! We'll make sure _your_ wedding is the wedding to end _all_ weddings!" Effie left the room to start making phone calls.

"I'm so happy for you," Mrs. Everdeen said, hugging Katniss. "Whatever you want done, just let me know."

"Nothing too flashy…just a small and intimate ceremony with the people that Peeta and I love most."

 **oOo**

 _III – Colors and Flowers_

"We should have our favorite colors," Peeta said. "It would be really nice to have our colors as the wedding's theme of unity."

"Sunset orange for you and green for me?" Katniss asked.

They sat together in their home having a light dinner of toasted bread with goat cheese, roasted groosling garnished with dandelion greens.

Peeta nodded. "Yeah. What about the flowers?"

"I'd like them to be yellow."

"Buttercup and primrose?" Peeta wrote down Katniss' and his ideas.

"Yes, and dandelions."

"Dandelions?" Peeta asked.

"The yellow ones, so they can go with the buttercups and primroses."

"Sounds good to me."

 **oOo**

 _IV – Wedding Dress_

"I have wonderful news, Katniss!" Effie said. "My Capitol connections can replicate the wedding dress Cinna made for you. They'll make two more different ones, so you can decide what you want to wear on your special day."

"Cinna's dress is the only one I will wear."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, please tell them thank you. I really appreciate this, Effie."

"Of course, dear." Effie rushed out the door to return to the Capitol to get the dress preparations underway.

For Katniss, wearing the wedding dress Cinna had made was the best way to have him present at her wedding.

 **oOo**

 _V – Invitation List_

Peeta and Katniss agreed a small wedding was best. All of District 12 were invited; which amounted to a handful of people. Most stayed in District 13 after the war ended.

"Let's go over the list again, Katniss," Peeta said.

"Beetee, Johanna, Enobaria, Haymitch, Effie, Mom, Annie and her son Noah. Cressida, Pollux, they've offered to record the wedding as a gift for us. Vice-President Paylor, Pluarch, Venia, Octavia, Flavius, Greasy Sae, Tigris, Dr. Aurelius…" Katniss looked up. "Anyone I'm leaving out?"

Peeta shook his head. "No, but if we think of anyone else, we'll add them to the list."

 **oOo**

 _VI – Preparations_

"I can make a big feast for your wedding, Katniss," Greasy Sae offered.

Katniss was worried; she didn't want to offend Greasy Sae.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I've learned other recipes aside from wild dog stew. There's some District 12 specialties I can cook."

Later on, Katniss shared with Effie her concerns about feeding her guests.

"Don't be silly, Katniss. I'll order yours and Peeta's favorite meals from the Capitol. The lamb stew with dried plums to start."

"You've done so much already, Effie."

"And I plan to do _more_!" Effie smiled. "Your wedding will be the best!"

 **oOo**

 _VII – Gale's Blessing_

Katniss wasn't sure if Gale should be invited.

They were childhood friends. The war strained things between them, but they spoke once a year, if that. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable or hurt him, by having him witness her kissing Peeta in person. It was her and Peeta's wedding, there was no way to avoid it.

News traveled fast in Panem and he called her one day.

"Congratulations, Katniss. I want you to know that you and Peeta have my blessing. Let me know if you need anything."

Tears brimmed in Katniss' eyes. "Thank you, Gale."

"Anytime, Catnip."

 **oOo**

 _VIII – The Night Before_

It was the night before the happiest day of her life. Yet, her heart banged mercilessly against her chest. Katniss went to the roof of her home to calm her nerves.

Peeta was there already, just like their days back at the Tribute Center.

"Can't sleep?"

"No." He smiled as she approached him. "Guess I'm too excited for our special day."

She sat down next to him and he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder.

"I wouldn't spend this night with anyone else, but you, Peeta."

He kissed her forehead. "Just think…by this time tomorrow, you'll be my wife."

 **oOo**

 _IX – The Day Has Arrived_

Their wedding guests sat in the Meadow under a beaming sun and clear blue sky.

Rye was the ring-bearer. Willow was the flower girl.

"I, Katniss Everdeen, take you, Peeta Mellark, as my husband. In sickness and health, for richer or for poorer, I promise to love and cherish you for the rest of my life."

"I, Peeta Mellark, take you, Katniss Everdeen, as my wife. United as one, one life, and one heart. One destiny."

Haymitch officiated. "You may kiss the bride!" He had promised to drink _after_ the ceremony.

They kissed to the soundtrack of cheers and applause.

 **oOo**

 _X – The Rest of Their Lives_

Katniss and Peeta consummated their union that had existed between them since their first Games. Their love-making was passionate and lasted for hours.

"Peeta?"

"Mmm…"

"Did we need to get married if our love is real?"

He stopped and looked directly into Katniss' eyes.

"Because you being my wife was important. We did it on _our_ terms, Katniss. Not anyone else's. We belong to each other now because we want to, not because we have to…"

"I wouldn't have it any other way." She kissed him to show him that their love was eternal.

Their lives were now forever intertwined.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** The structure of this fanfiction is a 10x100 - ten drabbles, 100 words each, and revolving around a similar theme. Thank you everyone for reading, and especially thank you to those who have left reviews. I love to hear what the readers think-praise and concrit! 62 down...38 more to go. Let's do this! _**-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	63. Summer

**63.** **Summer**

 ** _Haymitch's Haiku_**

It was a hot summer day in District 12 and Haymitch decided to take his geese for a walk. He decided to visit with Peeta and Katniss. Just before ringing their doorbell, he saw Buttercup approaching him. Buttercup meowed and rubbed himself against Haymitch's legs. Then he rolled around in the dirt, exposing his belly. Haymitch knew Prim's cat adored attention. He leaned down to scratch Buttercup between the ears when the cat suddenly hissed at him and bolted for his geese. The geese scattered in several directions, honking the entire time. Haymitch shook his head just as Peeta answered the door.

"Come inside, Haymitch."

"Thanks…I'm gonna write a haiku about that crazy cat." He pointed at Buttercup chasing a goose that was waddling away as quickly as possible. Both Peeta and Haymith cracked up laughing.

"I'm sure Katniss will like that," Peeta said. "What do you have in mind with this haiku?"

"It's a short poem, three lines. First line is five syllables, second line is seven syllables, and last line is five syllables."

Peeta's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "You're going to improvise?"

"Sure, thing."

"Improvise what?" Katniss walked in, looking confused at the conversation between Haymitch and Peeta.

"Haymitch just made up a poem about Buttercup in his head," Peeta said, laughing.

Katniss looked skeptical. "A poem about that cat?"

"Of course, sweetheart, I have more skills than you realize." A confident smile spread across Haymitch's face. "Ready to hear Buttercup Haiku?"

"Sure," Katniss and Peeta said in unison.

"Here we go: Buttercup Haiku:

 _Be nice, Buttercup_

 _Don't chase my geese, or I will_

 _Make cat stew from you_."

As Haymitch recited his poem, he counted out the syllables using his fingers.

Peeta laughed harder and Katniss shook her head. "If Prim heard that, she'd get you for that last part, especially cat stew."

"I'm just kidding around, sweetheart. Good to see you have a soft spot in your heart for that crazy cat."

Katniss' smile came out of hiding. "It's because he belongs to Prim, and he catches the occasional rat or mouse. So he's a good cat."


	64. Fall

**64.** **Fall **

**_The Colors of Autumn_**

It's the first fall season in the Capitol after the war is over. Effie Trinket has left her apartment and is walking down the street where other Capitol citizens mill around, shopping and running errands. All is quiet and there's a serene stillness that has never existed in the Capitol until now.

She sees the new flag for Panem hanging over a storefront. The old flag under Snow's rule showed the twelve Districts symbolized as twelve stars revolving around a larger star—the Capitol. District 13 wasn't represented at all since it had been supposedly obliterated by the Capitol during the Dark Days. The new Panem flag reflects the unity between the Capitol and all thirteen Districts. For the first time in Effie's life, there isn't division between the Capitol and the Districts.

It's also the first time Effie won't be preparing for the Hunger Games. She watches as the trees change magnificent colors: bright reds, sharp oranges, and mellow yellows. Autumn has always been Effie's favorite season, but now she has other reasons for enjoying it. The bright vivid colors remind her of a certain Girl on Fire.

Effie smiles when she thinks of Katniss Everdeen and how her life has changed for the better for knowing her.


	65. Passing

**65.** **Passing **

**_Existing, But Not Living_**

Each morning was torturous. Sometimes she lay in her bed with her eyes closed. Opening her eyes, much less getting out of bed, took enormous amounts of energy. She didn't have motivation to do so. She knew she had two daughters to feed, to clothe, to care for…but she couldn't bring herself to escape from the blackness that closed over her life like a permanent curtain. She had given up everything in her life to marry him and now he was dead.

When she was able to get out of bed, she felt as though she was wading through an invisible swamp of tar. Her feet plodded on the floor. Once, she had tried cutting vegetables to make a meal for her family and accidentally cut her finger. The knife had clattered to the floor and she didn't bother to pick it up. She just left it there. There was no sense in trying to make a meal for her family, although she hoped they appreciated her efforts. She went back to bed and slept the rest of the day and night, and didn't wake up until the following afternoon.

And so it went, year after year. Passing through life, not feeling anything, not being able to be fully present for Katniss or Prim… For Mrs. Everdeen, the only time she was able to make herself feel alive was during the annual Hunger Games for fear that either of her daughters would be reaped. It took Prim being reaped and Katniss volunteering in her place to bring Mrs. Everdeen back to life again.


	66. Rain

**66.** **Rain**

 ** _Morbid Memories_**

The blood rain poured down in heavy sheets and Beetee wondered how the Gamemakers created this ghastly precipitation. He saw Wiress and Johanna drenched in the sticky blood. He was soaked in the blood rain, too. It was thick and dark—and had a nauseating smell like something rotten and dead. Beetee was glad he hadn't eaten anything while in the arena, otherwise he would've vomited from the overpowering stench.

He questioned in his mind—not aloud for fear of how Wiress and Johanna would react—if the blood was from previous tributes who had already died in the Third Quarter Quell. It was no secret to anyone in Panem—that the Capitol was infamous for adding psychological twists to the Games to increase the tributes' horror and terror.

Beetee recalled one Games where the tributes were called to a very morbid Feast. Usually, the Feast was a strategy used to bring the tributes closer together to give the Capitol audience a second (but more toned down) version of the bloodbath. The Feast would have items that each tribute needed. That year, the tributes were called to the Feast…and in front of them were the dead tributes lined up side by side. Some were mutilated and missing limbs. One tribute's face had been chewed off by a mutt, leaving a messy tangle of flesh and dried blood. Whatever the living tributes needed were among the dead tributes.

Beetee shuddered at the memory of it: seeing live tributes pick among the dead tributes for items they needed—food, medicine, weapons. They were forced to act like vultures that year and much to the Capitol's delight, there was bloodshed. He remembered a tribute's throat being slashed open and blood splattering everywhere. As the blood rain hit his face, he wondered again about where the blood rain came from.

He hoped it wasn't blood from any slain tributes from this year—or any year for that matter.


	67. Snow

**67.** **Snow**

 ** _Recreating New Memories_**

Katniss didn't like the sight, scent, or feel of snow. It reminded her of a particular past "president" of Panem who had the same name and whose personality matched this particular precipitation. Who was more of a dictator serving his own wants, instead of meeting the needs of the people. _Cold. Icy._ Even his love of the color white was reminiscent of falling snow. She had told Peeta this three years after the war was over.

" _We have to make new memories associated with snow, Katniss, to replace the old ones."_ Peeta and his eternal optimism.

Katniss watched as Peeta, Rye, and Willow played in the snow. Peeta was a devoted father and was busy teaching Willow how to compact the snow into a ball. Rye kicked the snow around and then grabbed a handful to toss into the air while he stuck out his tongue. Peeta noticed Willow trying to make a snowball to build a snowman. She had difficulty and started showing signs of impatience: stomping in the snow. Peeta knew exactly how to change that: he laid on his back and waved both legs and arms around. He got up and pointed at the snow:

"That's a snow angel. Let's see if you can make one, Willow."

Willow started imitating her father in the snow and Rye tried doing the same thing. Peeta scooped up Rye and fixed his hat.

"Wear your hat on right, Rye. We don't want you getting sick."

"Look at what I'm making, Daddy!" Willow was excited now. "A snow angel—can we show Mommy?"

"Of course!"

Peeta started across the Meadow towards Katniss, who watched expressionless. "Katniss, Willow wants to show you something."

Willow grabbed her mother's hand and led her to lie down in the snow. Katniss already felt her heart melting with love for her children and the father of her children.

"This is what Daddy showed me about making snow angels." Willow demonstrated, stood up, and then pointed down at her masterpiece in the snow. "Now you make one, Mommy."

Katniss had no choice but to make a snow angel for Willow. The scowl across her face disappeared and was replaced with a genuine smile. She laughed when she gathered snow and packed it into a large ball to begin building a snowman with Peeta, Rye, and Willow. By the end of the day, Katniss had an entire different association with snow that brought her joy, peace, and happiness because it's associated with her family that she loves more than life itself.


	68. Lightning

**68.** **Lightning**

 ** _The Spark Catches Fire_**

Plutarch was glad to see the placement of the lightning tree in the arena this year. He had mentioned it when designing the arena for the Third Quarter Quell. The arena's architects had taken his suggestion and ran with it in a way Plutarch hadn't expected. He knew it would be instrumental in the tributes breaking out of the arena.

Even better was the fact that Beetee acted as the brains of the tributes to make the connection. Plutarch remembered watching Beetee's first Hunger Games about how he became District 3's Victor. Beetee knew lightning is an excellent conductor of electricity.

Now it all came down to the Girl on Fire who sparked the revolution when she and Peeta took out the nightlock during their last Games. When Plutarch saw her aim her arrow at the arena near the lightning tree, it's all he can do to contain himself: this rebellion will set Panem ablaze forever.


	69. Thunder

**69.** **Thunder**

 ** _The Hunger Games Are Destroyed Forever_**

A buzzing noise followed by loud crackling, and then the unmistakable sound of an explosion. The death cries of the arena in the Third Quarter Quell was deafening.

 **oOo**

Johanna heard the thunder rumbling followed by the strange fizzling noise. She knew it was the thunder above the lightening tree. Then there was the booming sound that surrounded her completely and the arena was lit in a harsh blue-silver light. _You did it, Girl on Fire; you destroyed the arena. The plan worked._ Johanna laughed crazily when she thought about it. Enobaria had been chasing after her and now had stopped in her tracks, completely taken by surprise by the sudden change in her surroundings. Johanna seized the opportunity to put more space between her and Enobaria and ran through the jungle. She knew her life was still at stake, the Quarter Quell wasn't over yet. Katniss' actions had put a pause button on the current Games, but with her last action, she had destroyed the Hunger Games forever.

 **oOo**

Peeta was stunned at what he had just heard and seen. Did Katniss _actually_ shoot an arrow at the forcefield? He saw the arrow lit in a bright silver light as it connected with the lightning. The arrow flew up towards the arena's dome.

His question was soon answered when he saw red flames lick at the top of the arena. Suddenly a huge metal object came crashing down on the jungle and burst into flames. Peeta dodged out of the way, barely missing getting burnt. He looked up again and saw what appeared to be another gigantic metal hexagon fall from the sky—the artificial sky of the arena. It landed in the water surrounding the cornucopia and sunk into the depths.

"Katniss."

Peeta spoke her name aloud, knowing he had to find her—but where was she? He stared up at the sky and realized the arena was crumbling right before his eyes.

 **oOo**

For Enobaria, the sound of the arena breaking down was louder than anything she's ever heard in District 2. She didn't know what was happening, if this was a ploy from the Gamemakers to drive the tributes closer together to end the Games. Looking up at the sky, she noticed that for the first time, she could see actual stars glittering above. Soon, more stars appeared as the arena fell apart. Flashes of fire and silver metal mixed together from above and came rushing down around her, igniting the jungle in a furious inferno. Enobaria raced around, trying to find a safe place to hide.

 _How was that possible?_ Enobaria wondered. _Who would do something like this?_

She swallowed nervously, trying not to let panic overtake her as realized this was not the Gamemakers' doing. Whoever destroyed the arena had just ensured the death of the remaining tributes. The Capitol was certain to punish those involved. Even her, although they had always favored District 2. Enobaria hoped whoever was responsible would be forced to pay dearly for their actions.

 **oOo**

Unconscious and laying on the ground, Beetee heard and saw nothing…


	70. Storm

**70.** **Storm **

_**The Last Stand of Coriolanus Snow**_

It happened quicker than he had time to process what was happening. Peacekeepers stormed the mansion and suddenly his arms were forced behind his back. Handcuffs tightened around his wrists and a thick wooly material was pulled over his eyes.

"Move."

President Snow did as he was told. He had no choice. He was pulled along by two people on either side of him—they held his arms in a tight grip. He heard the booming of boots on the wooden floors and then he was outside in the freezing cold. He was out of his mansion. But where were they taking him? Just as he asked himself that question, someone punched him on the side of his head and he blacked out.

 **oOo**

When he regained consciousness, he saw that he was in his rose garden. Cuffed and shackled. Wearing electronic bracelets that monitored his every move. And he was face to face with District 13's leader, President Alma Coin, and District 8's Commander Paylor. He looked past them and saw heavy rain sloshing against the glass of his greenhouse. Lightning lit up the sky and thunder crashed immediately after.

 _So this is how it ends,_ he thought, smug and unafraid. He sneered at the two women in front of him.

"How ingenious," he spat. "So you're next in line to take over Panem." He nodded towards Coin. "I never thought we'd meet face to face."

Coin's lips were pressed into a thin line. Her gray eyes were cold. "The pleasure's all mine. Commander Paylor…if you would excuse us."

Commander Paylor gave a curt nod to acknowledge Coin's request for privacy and left the greenhouse. She glanced over her should at them, a pensive expression on her face, and then continued towards the exit.

Coin watched as Paylor left them and turned to Snow. "You were correct in your first assertion. As for the other, I knew it was only a matter of time before we crossed paths face to face."

Snow coughed. A glob of blood flew out of his mouth and hit the ground near Coin's boot. She glanced down at it, but didn't budge.

"Was that your plan the entire time? Send your beloved Mockingjay after me, so that I in turn would want her dead no matter what the cost to those in the Capitol or the Districts?"

Coin's thin lips turned upward slightly in a knowing smirk. "You went after her yourself after the 74th Hunger Games. You couldn't stand the fact that she bucked your precious system."

"True." Snow nodded. "I don't like lying and I'm not afraid to admit you are right in _your_ assertion."

"Good to know we see eye to eye."

"That is the only time, I should add, that we'll ever see eye to eye. Madam President…if that's what they call you in District 13…you set those parachutes on Capitol people and also killed your own in the process. Is your Mockingjay aware of your hand in that final act of war?"

Coin said nothing and Snow knew he had the answer he was looking for.

"It's only a matter of time before Katniss Everdeen figures out who the real enemy is. She's quite smart, you know."

"I know she is."

"Then you should also know that she'll stand up to you as she did to me. Only she won't use nightlock berries to do it. She may just use her very own bow and ar—"

Coin punched Snow across the face.

"There's nothing more to be discussed. Your execution will take place in the immediate future, Snow. After that, we plan to hold a final Hunger Games."

Snow frowned. He felt confused as to what she was saying. "Didn't you just fight a war to _end_ the Hunger Games?"

A haunting smile crept across Coin's face. "Indeed we did. However, there still remains one small matter to address. And that is for the Capitol's citizens to experience the very same terror that the Districts had been forced to feel for the past seventy-five years."

Snow swallowed the blood collecting in his throat. It dawned on him what she was hinting at, but he still couldn't believe it— "You're going to hold a Hunger Games…" He couldn't finish his statement. He didn't need to.

"…using the Capitol's children." Coin finished for him and she sounded eager about it. "Who knows? Maybe your granddaughter will be fortunate to be reaped. A shame you won't be alive to watch her fend for her life—or even sponsor her to _save_ her life."

Snow was silent. He heard was the thunder above the greenhouse booming louder than before. And he heard Coin mention _"your granddaughter"_.

"We're in the process of designing the arena. You should know that Plutarch's genius will shine through more than ever before."

He wondered what he should feel about what lay ahead. Fear that his death was imminent? Angry that he had lost control of the Districts and the Capitol? "Terror", as Coin had eloquently phrased it, for what lay ahead for his granddaughter—after what Coin threatened with the Capitol's children? Regret that the Capitol's horrors would now be used against them?

"Imagine the death of your granddaughter and twenty-two other Capitol children. When the Victor is declared, we will bring them out of the arena and execute him or her on live television. All twenty-four tributes will be dead. There will be no Victor to stand among them."

Snow stared at Coin. Coin showed no emotion. No sign that she was outwardly or inwardly joyful or repulsed at what she was proposing. _This was the so-called leader of the rebellion? What makes her different than me?_ Snow thought and the answer came to him: _she's two-faced just as her name is. Coin._ Snow realized in that instant that he and Katniss had been played for fools the entire time—they had hated each other when the entire time the real enemy was Alma Coin. He knew what he had to do now, he just hoped he would be given the opportunity to do so. If not, then Panem would be a worse state than before.

"I'll leave you to imagine your granddaughter dying at the hands of another Capitol teenager."

Snow watched as Coin left the greenhouse.

 **oOo**

"I don't believe you."

"My dear Ms. Everdeen, I thought we agreed never to lie to each other."

He noticed Katniss slowly walk towards the greenhouse's exit. It seemed as though she was contemplating what he had said to her. When she reached the doors, she hesitated for a moment. Snow thought she would turn around again, to question him, doubt him, shout at him. Then she opened the doors and left him to survive in his prison of roses. He was surprised at how ordinary she appeared in front of him, and yet, he still hated her for challenging him. He hated her, and at the same time, he wanted to be honest with her. He had promised to always be honest with her. It was the one thing that was his saving grace.

Katniss was calm, but he knew the wheels in her mind were turning. He knew he had planted the seeds of doubt in Katniss' mind, but the truth was, she already knew the truth about Coin. He just was feeding into what she already thought and felt about Coin, although he didn't know it. At that moment in time, he knew he had to try to make her see that he wasn't the enemy—he was for a long time, just as she was his rival for that same period. But now knowing the truth about Coin and what she did to Capitol citizens and even her own people—Snow had to let the truth out. Coin had to be exposed for the farce and danger she truly was.

Many people had schemed against him. Planned his demise for years. Plutarch, the two-faced District loving rebel. Tigris—the cat-bitch. Cinna with his Mockingjay dress, mocking Snow with his tributes-on-fire…He had killed Cinna, humiliated Tigris, and if he had known what Plutarch was up to, he would've had the Head Gamemaker executed in public, for all of Panem to see.

Then there was Coin. Sneaky, manipulative, lying President Alma Coin. He was saddened that Katniss had been used by her this entire time. It was so clear to him that Coin couldn't wait to dispose of her. Katniss Everdeen had outlived her usefulness and it was only a matter of time before Coin killed her. So Snow decided to let Katniss know the truth, the real deal behind those parachute bombs…he just wondered if she would act on what he had told her.

 **oOo**

He watched as she aimed at him and released—

The arrow flew above his head and struck its target—

He heard Coin collapse—

For a second there was stunned silence, then the roaring of the crowd of spectators who had come to watch Katniss Everdeen execute him in front of the nation of Panem. Then he was laughing and he tasted the copper of blood flooding his mouth. He didn't know why he laughed—maybe because Katniss believed him after all. Maybe because now Katniss would be her own undoing and be killed just as he had wanted her killed when he found a way to get her back into the Hunger Games for the Third Quarter Quell.

He saw her through the mob of Panem's citizens. A flash of her Mockingjay uniform. Their eyes clashed with each other. And that was the last he saw of her. Soon, they were rushing at him, on him, beating him, punching him, kicking him, and yanking him away from the structure he was bound to. He could hear them yelling and screaming. It was overwhelming to be surrounded by so many people who wanted him dead, and yet, he knew one day it would come to this. He knew from the moment that Katniss offered Peeta the nightlock in the arena…that one day he would lose power over Panem. He would lose control over the Districts. He would lose the adoration of the Capitol.

And he would lose his life.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I apologize for this late update. "Storm" was one of three prompts that were unfinished. The rest are complete. I had a vision of how I wanted this prompt to conclude. I think it turned out well, all things considering. Thank you for your continued readership and patience! _**-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	71. Broken

**71.** **Broken**

 ** _A Broken Mind_**

If the Hunger Games broke Katniss Everdeen, then the hijacking of Peeta Mellark shattered him.

She knew Peeta's psyche was smashed into pieces, when watching from outside of his room as he thrashed on a bed while restrained with leather straps. Peeta kept hitting the back of his head on the pillow and pulling against the straps holding him down. His expression was feral, his teeth were clenched, and his face was reddened and sweaty. This was _not_ the Peeta that Katniss knew so well.

" _'_ _Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing'._ "

Katniss turned around when she heard that familiar voice. It was Plutarch Heavensbee.

"What did you say?" she asked, suspicious of what Plutarch was referring to.

" _'_ _Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing'._ " Plutarch repeated the phrase. "That's from a famous novel by George Orwell: _1984_ _– Nineteen Eighty-Four_. That's what the Capitol did to Peeta when they hijacked him."

Katniss glared at Plutarch. He was oblivious to her angry stare as he continued telling her about the novel. "There's these two characters, Winston and Julia, and they lived in this horrible society of double-think, oppression, poverty, and total government control. Winston Smith denounces his love for Julia after he's forced to face his worst fear in Room 101. I'm sure President Snow told Peeta about this novel before the hijacking procedure."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Because Snow made it a habit to tell Capitol prisoners about that novel, especially if they were about to go under the hijacking procedure or if they were Capitol citizens—have their tongues cut out. He relished showing how much control he had over people."

"He's a poisonous snake," Katniss grumbled, when she remembered what Finnick revealed about Snow.

"It's an amazing book," Plutarch continued as though Katniss hadn't said anything. "Winston's worst fear were rats and O'Brien, his torturer, threatens to let the rats devour his face. Winston screams out _'do it to, Julia!'_ Nothing matters anymore after that—Winston's love for Julia was gone—and her affection for him had also vanished."

Katniss listened to Plutarch ramble on. She turned away from the glass partition, refusing to watch Peeta fight against himself.

"It was a famous novel written many years ago," Plutarch continues, misinterpreting Katniss' silence for interest. "When Julia and Winston meet again, she says to Winston, _'sometimes…they threaten you with something—something you can't stand up to, can't even think about. And then you say, 'Don't do it to me, do it to someone else!'"_ They realize they don't feel the same way towards each other after that, Katniss, the torture they both endured forced them to betray each other. It was heartbreaking. After that, Winston loves Big Brother. I know I'm missing several important parts of the novel, but this was by far the worst part of the entire story."

Katniss turned to him. "Are you suggesting Peeta might've screamed out to his torturers to hijack me instead? And that they may've brainwashed him to love the Capitol or even President Snow? Because I would've gladly stepped in his place."

A wry smile flashed across Plutarch's face. "You would've volunteered in Peeta's place in the same way you volunteered in Prim's place for the Games?"

"In a heartbeat."

"That's why you're our Mockingjay."

Katniss said nothing and Plutarch took it as his cue to leave her alone. He had said plenty enough and it was time to meet with Coin about their next move.

Katniss didn't want to imagine the physical abuse Peeta had endured while having tracker jacker venom forced into his system. His memories of her had been distorted and his experiences with her were warped beyond recognition. Most of all, Peeta wasn't the same young man she had left in the clock arena. She remembered his conversation with her on the rooftop of the Tribute Center during their first Games. After all this time, she finally understood him.

 _"_ _I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense? I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not. I keep wishing I could think of a way to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games. If I'm gonna die, I want to still be me."_

The Capitol had succeeded in turning Peeta into something he wasn't. Peeta wasn't a foaming-at-the-mouth crazed killer. He was a kind, thoughtful, and intelligent young man…and he loved Katniss. Hijacked Peeta's behavior had transformed him into an unrecognizable individual, cold, ruthless, and terrifying. She wondered how Past Peeta would react if he were able to meet this Future Peeta.

Katniss reflected on Plutarch's quote about power from the novel 1984. President Snow had wielded his power against Katniss using Peeta as his weapon in the most dangerous way to forever break both District 12's Victors. President Snow had taken Peeta's mind, tore it to shreds, stomped on it for good measure, and then crazy-glued the ragged scraps into a messy mass of hatred and fear. The result was the out-of-control man strapped to a bed, banging his head and yelling that Katniss was a mutt, who would try to kill her again if he were free of the restraints.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Direct quotes in italics are from the George Orwell's novel  1984 and Suzanne Collins' novel The Hunger Games. Thank you for your continued readership!


	72. Fixed

**72.** **Fixed**

 ** _Haymitch's Optimism_**

By now, he knew exactly where to find her. There's only so many places Katniss can hide in District 13. Behind a maze of pipes, Haymitch found Katniss sitting and hugging her knees, rocking back and forth. She had her head down and her braid was undone.

"Katniss," he said, gently.

She didn't respond so he used a rougher tone.

"Katniss!"

Katniss met his eyes and he saw tears rolling down her cheeks. He rarely saw Katniss cry, but now he can't blame her. The girl had gone through so much trauma, death, and loss in a short amount of time. _The Girl on Fire is burnt out._ He hated to see her hurting like this.

"What are you going to do, Haymitch? Put a band-aid on my heart?"

"I want you to know that there's hope for Peeta."

Katniss looked at him in disbelief. " _Hope?!_ He doesn't even recognize me! He hates me—the Capitol saw to that when they broke him mind, body, and spirit. He can't be fixed!"

Haymitch shook his head. "Now see, that's where you're wrong, sweetheart. Try not to see Peeta as a broken man. He's not himself, but he's not broken. He's stronger than you give him credit for."

She listened intensely to his words. _Good, maybe I can still do this mentoring business,_ Haymitch thought, but the reality was that he really wanted Katniss to believe what he said. He believed it, and he needed Katniss to believe it too: Peeta will overcome the effects of the Capitol's hijacking.

"Not only is he physically strong, he's mentally strong. He held true to you until the last torture session."

"You believe that?"

"Of course, I do, Katniss. Snow must've forced him to go through it several times for it to have gotten to this level. Remember, Peeta is still in there. He may not sound like himself or act like himself, but the Peeta Mellark that we both know and love is very much alive. He wouldn't let the Capitol win just like that—and neither will we."

Katniss smiled now. It was a forced smile, of trying to hold back more tears, but Haymitch took it for what it was. Before Haymitch could add anything else, he felt her arms wrap around him in a huge bear hug. She heard what she needed to hear: that Peeta was still Peeta even if for the time being he wasn't himself or almost unrecognizable.

And Haymitch was telling Katniss what he needed to hear for himself as well. Because the truth is, Katniss wasn't the only one who cared about Peeta. Haymitch had no idea what he would do if he lost either of them. They gave him hope when he had none, a reason to fight when he had gave up long ago, and most of all; they offered him a chance to love again when hatred had devoured his heart. The truth was Haymitch Abernathy knew he would be heartbroken if he were to lose both Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark…and there would be no one—not even Effie Trinket—who would be able to mend his heart again.


	73. Light

**73.** **Light**

 ** _Peeta Mellark_**

Katniss watched with wide eyes in an observation room in District 13 as Peeta was held down on the ground by two guards. He kicked and screamed like a rabid animal. The harder the guards tried to restrain him, the louder he became, and the stronger he fought and resisted against them. To an outsider, it would be confusing to understand what set off Peeta, but Katniss knew it was the hijacking. A memory of her that has been distorted into a nightmare. It could be a memory from their first Hunger Games, the Victory Tour—whatever the Capitol could get their hands on, they destroyed in Peeta.

Not too long ago, the Capitol reveled in the star-crossed-lovers story that Peeta had ingeniously started on the night of his first interview with Caeser Flickerman. Whether he had planned that had always been a question to Katniss, but at this point, she would do anything to see and interact with the old Peeta again.

Peeta…

The Peeta who saved her and her family from starvation when he tossed her the burned bread. The Peeta who nervously shook her hand and avoided her eyes at their first Reaping. The Peeta who told her on the training center's rooftop that he didn't want to be a piece in the Capitol's Games. The Peeta who shook his head at her when they were on their pedestals in their first Games. The Peeta who yelled at her to leave before Cato returned to kill her. The Peeta who wanted to know her favorite color. The Peeta who held her closely during those frightening nights on the train during their Victory Tour. The Peeta who had a magical way with words and who knew how to enthrall the bloodthirsty Capitol audience. The Peeta who claimed they had married in secret and that Katniss was the mother of his child. The Peeta who kissed her with genuine passion on the beach. The Peeta who gave her the pearl.

Peeta Mellark's kind and gentle nature had been completely obliterated by the Capitol's hijacking methods.

One guard forced Peeta's arms behind his back and the other snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. Katniss winced when she heard the horrifying click of the manacles. She watched as the guards yanked Peeta out of the room, forcing him to go into an Isolation Unit until he was completely calm. She hoped he wouldn't see her, as it would only make things worse. She knew it was too late and that he had seen her when she heard him shouting at her. He sounded as though he wanted nothing more than to kill her with his bare hands and drag her corpse back to President Snow for a heavy bounty.

"YOU MUTT!" Peeta screamed, straining himself against the guards. "YOU SHOULD'VE BURNED UP WITH EVERYONE FROM DISTRICT 12! YOU STINKING, FILTHY, DIRTY MUTT!"

The guards forced Peeta to walk away, but he kept twisting around in their grip. His shouting faded as he was made to move further away from her against his will. She blinked away tears, remembering who he was before the Snow took him as prisoner. On the last night of the Quarter Quell, he was protective of her and even revealed he has nothing to live for if he lost her. Katniss reached into her pocket and felt the smooth surface of the pearl he gave her.

Peeta Mellark was the light and hope in her world of darkness and pain. He was the only reminder for Katniss, aside from Prim, that some genuine good and real beauty actually existed in this ugly cold world. Would he ever return to himself, so that he could return to her?


	74. Dark

**74.** **Dark**

 ** _Gale Hawthorne_**

During their time in District 2, Katniss began to see how dark Gale really was. His hatred, his anger; his extreme mentality of justifying murder in the name of freedom…He was willing to sacrifice innocents on the same side if it meant the Rebels' victory.

When did he reach the point of no return? Katniss wasn't sure if Gale's darkness became deeper when she volunteered in Prim's place. She wondered if him watching her on TV dodging the Gamemakers' fireballs, the Careers chasing her up a tree, the mutts—if this increased the hatred he already felt towards the Capitol.

Katniss came to believe that Gale was much darker than Peeta, despite Peeta's hijacked state. Because Peeta screaming at her, choking her, and calling her "a filthy mutt" wasn't his darkness. It was the Capitol's darkness—Snow's darkness forced upon him. An image haunted Katniss' mind: she pictured Snow throwing a thick black blanket over Peeta and squeezing it so that there was no more goodness left inside him. And then, Snow would pour his greed, ugliness, and corrupt blood into Peeta, forcing him to turn against all those he loved. Peeta was still there underneath all the hjacking toxins. Sometimes Katniss saw flashes of the old Peeta, the kind Peeta she took for granted…

Katniss forced herself to face the truth: Gale always had that darkness inside of him. Now it had come to life and fully thrived in the war. Now he could channel his rage when fighting against the Capitol. There were no flashes of light in Gale's darkness.

Then she changed her thoughts: there _were_ peeks of light such as when he watched her family and made sure they were fed during her Games'. She remembered seeing Prim on Gale's shoulders when she returned from her first Games. He saved hundreds of District 12 people after the Capitol bombed them at the conclusion of the Quarter Quell. Gale had light inside of him…but now he had succumbed to revenge, he gave in to bloodlust, he indulged hate and starved love…

Then another thought shot through her. It happened so fast that she thought she would lose it: just as Peeta's hijacked state wasn't truly him…was Gale's darkness truly his? Katniss asked herself if she was truly justified in painting Gale as this dark human being, focused only on vengeance. Would it be fair to say that the Capitol—with their Hunger Games as "entertainment"—was the reason behind his darkness? If there had there been no Hunger Games, would Gale have turned out this way? Had Gale become a piece in the Capitol's games after all?

This lead to more reflection on choices. Katniss remembered Gale saying Peeta had a choice when they saw his interview with Flickerman. At the time, they both felt Peeta was choosing to side with the Capitol, although another part of Katniss knew Peeta was probably being forced to state whatever President Snow wanted him to say so that he could survive. On that note, Katniss believed Gale had made his choice long ago:

She remembered when they used to hunt in District 12. Back then, they were just kids with vivid imaginations and an appetite and thirst for their District's freedom. He would say all kinds of things of what do if given the opportunity…

 _Someday, I'd like to line up all of the Capitol's citizens, all in a row…kill all their children in front of them. An arrow to the heart, the stomach, the head…let them see what it's like to watch their children die and not be able to do a damn thing about it._

Shivers encased Katniss. Gale would speak like this all the time during their younger years. They were just words. Now he was able to act on what he wanted to do. Now there was no stopping him. Now he was making the choice to kill others because thousands had been killed in District 12 after the Quarter Quell. For Katniss, human life was still valuable and killing others was a horrifying experience that would always haunt her. Gale didn't understand that. Innocent blood spilt, lives lost, and families destroyed didn't deter him at all.

She wondered if she had ever truly known him.


	75. Shade

**75.** **Shade**

 ** _A Brief Respite_**

Enobaria sits in the shade, trying to keep cool. The arena is extremely hot and muggy. It's the second day of the Quarter Quell and she hopes these Games don't last more than a week. It's hard to concentrate on killing tributes when you have to consider the need for water—where and how to find it. The water surrounding the cornucopia is salty and will make her thirstier.

She thinks back to the arena of the 62nd Hunger Games, the one that she won. A brief smile lights up her face and she licks her teeth, feeling the jab of the sharp points. She really made history that year. No one had _ever_ ripped out a tribute's throat. As sickening as her victory was, Enobaria remembered the arena's beauty which was betrayed by the spilt blood of fallen tributes younger and older than her.

It was a sprawling green plain with snow-capped mountains in the background. Some trees and bushes were scattered around the flat land, but there was no telling if the berries or fruits were edible or poisonous. The cornucopia had been located behind a large lake. You either swam across the lake or ran on the land around it to reach the cornucopia. Tributes were drowned inside the lake or killed on the outside land surrounding it during the bloodbath. Enobaria recalls seeing at least five dead floating bodies when the bloodbath was over.

Seeing this year's arena doesn't surprise Enobaria too much. She's glad she knows how to swim. She was able to dodge District 12's arrows before The Girl on Fire could land an arrow in her brain. Still, it's ridiculously hot in the arena. _Maybe the Capitol pigs want us to die of dehydration,_ she thinks. She won't voice this aloud…not with Brutus, Gloss, and Cashmere nearby.

Enobaria closes her eyes and decides she likes the shade. How long she will be able to remain like this…only time will tell…


	76. Who?

**76.** **Who?**

 ** _How a Tribute Becomes a Victor_**

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Victor of the 71st Hunger Games—Johanna Mason!"

A thirteen year old Katniss watched with the rest of District 12 residents as the seventeen year old girl raised a bloodstained axe in triumph. Her face was smeared with blood and her grin was malicious. Katniss couldn't tell if the blood belonged to the triumphant tribute or to her victims, who now lay dead at her feet. One tribute had been slashed open and disemboweled. The slimy pink intestines were laying in the ground. The second tribute had been nearly decapitated when Johanna's axe met her neck. Her neck was still attached to her body by a small amount of flesh. A third tribute was missing half of their leg from where Johanna had struck them with the axe. The knee was a bloody stump and she had bled out.

What kind of person did it take to win the Hunger Games? And who was Johanna Mason, anyway? Katniss remembered how Johanna was voted by both Capitol and District citizens the least likely to win. During her interview with Caesar Flickerman, she had mumbled, barely able to articulate her words. When she had performed her skills for the Gamemakers, she scored the lowest score out of all twenty-four tributes: 3. At the bloodbath, she had grabbed an axe and a blue backpack and ran off into the arena that had been designed as a tundra. She barely showed herself during the Games and it wasn't until there were three tributes left that the real Johanna Mason broke through the terrified façade. She murdered with ease and a viciousness that was second nature to her that was difficult to believe, given how she had presented herself earlier. Weak, annoying, incompetent. And yet, she wielded an axe like a chef who knows how to use every knife for culinary purposes.

Katniss had to admit that she had underestimated Johanna. Once the District 7 tribute revealed her true self, she felt ashamed to feel relief that she wasn't in the arena with her. She looked around her and noticed the other District 12 residents were as shocked as she felt. They stared at the screen in silence. Some shook their head in disgust. Others muttered under their breath about how it was frightening that a teenager knew how to expertly wield an axe so that they became a brutal murderer.

Katniss hoped she would never be reaped for the Games because the thought of being forced to murder her peers meant she would always wonder who she truly was.


	77. What?

**77.** **What? **

**_No Limits_**

Cato always plans ahead. He doesn't underestimate the importance of working out his next move and anticipating the unexpected. So when the hovercraft lifts in the air to take him and the other tributes to the arena, he's already sizing up which competitors can be eliminated during the bloodbath. He had already started evaluating his competition when watching footage of the Reapings from the other eleven districts. Now that he was on his way to the Games, Cato decides to have fun with plucking them off in his mind. The boy with curly hair from District 4 who can't be more than twelve years old looks away when Cato makes piercing eye contact with him. _You're definitely a goner,_ Cato thinks scornfully. _You probably turned 12 on Reaping Day, congrats to you._

When Cato steps into the tribute tube from inside the Launch Room, he remembers everything he learned about the Games from a young age. As cliché as it may sound, District 2 drummed "only the strong survive" as a mantra into his head from the time he could walk. He was meant to be in these Games, he had trained his entire life. He hadn't been reaped when he was 12 years old, 13, 14, 15, 16, or 17. He knew at age 18, this would be his last chance for glory, so he volunteered. All those years of training in the academy would finally pay off.

The tube rises and he knows what he will do when the countdown is over. _Kill as many tributes as possible._ He vaguely wonders what he will do when it comes down to him and the rest of the Careers. Alliance or no alliance, he has to kill others to win—he _must_ bring pride to District 2. He just hopes he doesn't have to be the one to kill Clove. She's his district partner and he knows that if he murdered Clove, it would be looked down upon.

Everyone else is fair game.

The launch plate stops and the tube slides down. Cato is now in the arena and he can see all the weapons laid out in front of the Cornucopia. He briefly considers the best way to kill Katniss Everdeen. What would be the most humiliating death for her? He's sure it will gain him sponsors in the Capitol. Then he thinks better of it and imagines killing everyone in sight and leaving the Girl on Fire for last…perhaps that would be the best thing to do: become Victor after putting out District 12's flames. Extinguish her for good. His original idea was to use LoverBoy to bring about her demise. As he thinks it over, Cato decides be the one to kill her and then then kill him for good measure.

What will he do as a Victor? Then he rephrases the question to: what _wouldn't_ he do as a Victor? Cato smiles widely as the countdown finishes, the Games begin, and he does what he knows he does best: kill for glory, murder for pride, and slaughter for victory.


	78. When?

**78.** **When? **

**_A Matter of Time_**

Thresh knows it's only a matter of time before Cato, the brutal tribute from District 2, comes after him for killing Clove. He understands his actions can mean the end for him and isn't too upset about it. Like any other tribute, Thresh wants to return home to his family, but he has come to accept his approaching death, just as he accepted his end was near as soon as he heard his name called out at the Reaping.

 _Death is inevitable; it's just a matter of when and how._ This was a thought that constantly ran through Thresh's mind from the moment he had been reaped for the Games. When it would be, he didn't know. It might happen sooner, it might happen later. It might even come down to the finale between him and Cato. Thresh considers if the odds are in his favor, and if they aren't, he hopes it is for The Girl on Fire. He hopes she gets to go home since she gave Rue her dignity.

How it would end? Thresh thinks about it and knows he will put up a good fight. He won't die easily, that's for sure. Cato might stab him countless times, letting Thresh choke on his blood. He remembers observing Cato during the training sessions. Cato enjoyed showing off his skills with swords, especially lopping off the head and arms of a dummy in one swift motion. Then again, Cato might smash his skull with a rock, to avenge Clove's death.

Thresh tries not to overthink it. If Cato wants to follow him, then let him. Let him search for Thresh in the large wheat field that has served as both a shelter and food source for him during the Games. He just knows that when the time comes, he will give it his very best, he will make his family proud, he will give it all for Rue, he will show Cato he's not a lowly tribute from District 11, and most of all, he will show the Capitol that he didn't die in vain.


	79. Where?

**79.** **Where?**

 ** _In the Depths of One's Heart Lies the Power to Forgive_**

The decision to forgive Gale kept Katniss awake at night years after Prim's death.

Her resolve had been firm: she had no intention of forgiving Gale or speaking to him ever again. It was better that way. She could never look at him the same way again after his role in the bombing that killed Prim. Gale knew it, that's why he never attempted to contact Katniss. Then, one night, Peeta changed that. Peeta, in his honesty and goodness, gave her a convincing argument—if it could be called that—as to why she should forgive Gale.

 _"_ _I'm not saying that you should forget what happened, Katniss, but that you should forgive him. They're two completely different things. Forgiving Gale does not absolve him from what happened, but it releases you. To forgive is to be free, Katniss. You'll never forget what happened and I would be wrong to even suggest or expect that from you. Letting go of the anger you have against him is forgiveness. Prim would want you to be free."_

Ever since that night, she had wrestled with her decision to _not_ forgive Gale. Was it truly imprisoning her? Would it be wrong to let go of the immense pain that Gale had caused? Would it be better for her in the long run? At first, she decided to forgive him in her heart.

Until Peeta suggested otherwise: she must forgive him in person.

It didn't surprise Katniss that Peeta suggested this. It's a reminder of Peeta's kindness and genuiniety. Although the Capitol had tried to destroy him; in the end, the true and real Peeta had fought through all the brainwashing and conquered the hijacking. The true Peeta had won. Never had this been more evident when he insisted that she find Gale in District 2 and work things out with her former best friend.

Ten years had passed since the war.

Katniss wondered if it was too late to talk to Gale. He had to remember their exchanges—not just the kisses, but their disagreements about the war and the tactics being used. That was the real beginning of the end of their friendship. Gale didn't understand her need to preserve life and Katniss didn't agree with his stance about winning the war at any cost. The war had effectively destroyed their friendship.

Her last words to him had been final: _Good-bye, Gale._ She knew she had been cold towards him. She had dismissed him, even when he tried explaining with tears choking his voice that all he ever wanted to do was protect her family. He knew he had failed her. She had failed him, too. She couldn't protect him from Thread's public beating. She didn't shoot him after he begged her when the Peacekeepers had captured him.

They had failed each other.

Katniss realized Gale wasn't the only one she needed to forgive.

 **oOo**

The hovercraft landed in District 2 and Katniss disembarked on her own. As her boots touched the ground, she had a random thought about Plutarch. She remembered asking him where the arenas for the Hunger Games were built. He had told her they were developed in other countries around the world that had been barren for centuries.

 _"_ _They were once thriving, but natural disasters had wiped out the human populations there."_

Katniss wondered about Plutarch and what he was up to these days. Probably still in the Capitol, managing the media and working alongside President Paylor.

She decided to focus. She was here in District 2 to find Gale. The mountainous district was daunting. Where would she find him? She saw the Justice Building and remembered meeting Commander Lyme there during the war. How would she find him in this huge district? Katniss started walking around District 2. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn't leave until she found him.

 **oOo**

Gale saw her before Katniss saw him.

She thought she had seen him—it was him—she'd recognize his tall frame anywhere—then suddenly he was in front of her.

He mouthed her name and took a step towards her. She turned around to run from him. Where would she run to? A thought flew in her mind: _I can go back to the train._ Why couldn't she just tell him she forgave him? Nausea flooded her senses and she couldn't see straight. Images of Prim burning alive flooded her mind. Grief slammed her full force like a tidal wave. It was as though Prim's death happened minutes ago.

Katniss opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She had returned to that awful state of muteness where she was unable to talk after her sister's death. Only now she couldn't think straight. Her thoughts were scattered. She couldn't remember why she came here to District 2. She had a gut feeling that the muteness was temporary, but she was terrified all the same. She had to leave and return home to Peeta— _now_.

"Catnip?"

She heard him use the nickname he had given her all those years. She wanted to shout at him for calling her that. She was pushing against him, she couldn't see him—she didn't want to—she refused to look at him. He was trying to hold her arms down, trying to protect himself and stop her from lashing out. Then she was crying and hot tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn't talk clearly, she wanted to tell him how much she hated him for designing the bomb that killed Prim, but instead, something different came out. Between sobs and gasps, her words rushed out before she could hold them back.

"I forgive you."

She didn't know where she found it in herself to say those words, but she did. She had to say them now, even if he didn't understand her fully, because she knew once this moment passed, she would never utter those words aloud again. Not to him, not to Peeta, and not to herself. Then his arms were around her, holding her, and she could feel his body shaking and that's when Katniss realized that Gale was sobbing.

 **oOo**

They sat in Gale's home, not speaking as he prepared dinner for them. Each one wanted the other to break the silence first. It just prolonged the discomfort. Finally, Gale gave in.

"How're things for you and…" He didn't want to say his name…he didn't want Katniss to hear the bitterness in his voice.

"We're doing well."

"That's good." Gale's voice was strained. He kept his focus on stirring the chicken soup and turned off the stove.

"How're your siblings? Posy, Rory, and Vick?"

"They're okay, I guess. I hear from them every now and then." He poured Katniss and himself bowls of hot chicken soup.

"Thank you," Katniss said, taking the bowl.

"Be careful, it's hot."

Katniss nodded as she dipped a spoon in the bowl. "So what've you been up to?"

"Just supervising the miners' safety in the mountains." He ate some of his soup.

Katniss knew her she had a surprised expression on her face. _Of all jobs for Gale to have_ —she shoved the thought away. She told him she had forgave him and the thought entering her mind would've shown her and him that she was still angry at Gale for his demeanor during the war.

"I thought you had a fancy job."

"It's not fancy at all. After the war and everything…" Gale stirred his soup with his spoon. "I just wanted to live a quiet life. I'm sure you understand." He looked up to see if his former best friend understood. He felt relieved when she nodded.

"I get it. I really do."

"Thank you." Gale sounded relieved.

"Any lucky ladies?"

"No. I'm on my own. There was never anyone after you, Katniss."

Unsure of how to respond to Gale, Katniss focused on eating her soup.

"I'm glad you found what…or whom you wanted," he continued. "It was hard to accept, but after everything that's happened, I understand."

He sounded genuine and Katniss looked up at him, meeting his eyes. There was an awful sadness in Gale's face and voice. She knew she couldn't take it away or make it better for him. She said the only thing she could say.

"Thank you."

 **oOo**

Later that evening, Gale took her back to the train. They waited in silence. He looked at her for a long time. Katniss held his eyes, remembering when they first met in the woods in District 12. Things weren't wasn't the same anymore, but it didn't stop her from giving him a heartfelt hug of gratitude. She felt surprised when Gale returned the hug. The train arrived and Katniss stepped towards it.

"Don't be a stranger," Gale said.

"I won't." She stepped inside the train and turned back to him.

When they waved good-bye to each other, they both weren't sure when and if they would see each other again. One thing was certain: Katniss and Gale finally had the peace they both wanted for each other for so long.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This ficlet is a companionship piece to _#98 Forgive_ and _#99 Regret_. All three ficlets go together and can also be read and enjoyed as stand-alones. Thank you for your continued readership! **-Sassy Lil Scorpio**


	80. Why?

**80.** **Why?**

 ** _Questions With No Answers_**

Lately, Effie finds herself questioning why the Hunger Games exist. She had always brought into the propaganda she had learned growing up in the Capitol. The schools taught about how the Districts rebelled against the Capitol during the Dark Days. The complete destruction of District 13. How the Rebels ruthlessly slaughtered innocent Capitol citizens. Back then, she had mindlessly swallowed the message that the Districts were the real enemy and that the Hunger Games were their only way to pay penance for the uprising that had led to the awful war.

Until she met Peeta and Katniss, it was the same routine: travel to District 12, mouth the words to President Snow's propaganda (which she knew by heart), reap two tributes, interview, tribute parade, games, tributes die… Rinse and repeat every year. It never fazed her when District 12's tributes were killed year after year.

That all changed when she reaped Primrose Everdeen.

Effie was shocked to see the tiny twelve year old start towards the stage. Effie knew there was no way the odds would be in the young girl's favor. She was even more amazed when Katniss volunteered in her place. As she stated to the shocked District citizens: _"District 12's very first volunteer."_ Even Effie didn't understand her surprise at that moment, but from then on, something began to change inside of her. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, but she knew she would never be the same again.

The surprise she felt led to changes in her thinking—which led to questions that had no real answers. Why did the Capitol insist on punishing the Districts? Well, Effie knew why, but was it fair? What was to be gained from the Games? Were there ever any real winners? How could the Capitol claim to hate murder and war, but then watch children slaughter each every year for sport? It started in that manner of questioning the Capitol and the reasons for the Games.

Then the questions turned inward.

 _Why do I participate in it every year? Why do I play the role of escorting innocent teenagers to the slaughter for all these years? Why did I get so attached to Peeta and Katniss? Why had I failed to see the tributes' humanity in the past? Why did it take working with Katniss and Peeta to make me see that the Hunger Games were wrong? Why did they have to go back into the arena for the Quarter Quell? Why do I have to say good-bye to them?_

The last question brought tears to her eyes and it's all she could think about during the Quarter Quell.


	81. How?

**81.** **How? **

**_The Final Question_**

Seneca Crane had watched all seventy-one Hunger Games' after being hired to design the 72nd Hunger Games. Each Game always ended with one Victor. It was predictable that the final two tributes would fight viciously to be able to walk out of the arena alive. In rare cases, the Victor won by an unforeseen event, such as in the case of Annie Cresta, when a dam flooded the arena due to an earthquake. Annie became the Victor as she was an excellent swimmer from District 4. That was then and this was now. Crane was confident in his ability to bring the most entertaining Games' to Panem and the 74th edition was no exception.

The District 12 tributes had been intriguing ever since the Reaping. Crane had watched Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, entertained by their antics. The two teenagers had captured the attention of everyone during the Games. Katniss already won support and admiration for volunteering for her sister and Peeta was likeable simply for adoring Katniss since childhood. Crane had thought introducing the fake rule allowing two Victors to win from the same District would raise the stakes—and it had. Katniss had sought out Peeta. They kissed and held each other, she cleaned his wounds and ran to the Feast to get the medicine for him. She risked death and was nearly killed by Clove, who was then murdered by Thresh. Katniss managed to get Peeta his medicine and help nurse him back to health. Crane was certain that everyone in Panem was riveted. They kept the masses watching and hoping for them, rooting for their victory.

Then Crane figured he could raise the stakes even higher by revoking the rule that had never existed in the first place. He anticipated this strategic move would lead to an incredible finale in this year's Hunger Games—pitting the star-crossed lovers against each other in a battle to the death. It would be talked about for many years to come. He had taken a bet with Lucia that Mellark would kill Everdeen. Lucia had been betting on Everdeen. What he never expected was that they would find a way around Crane's game to ensure they were both declared Victors.

The moment Katniss took out the nightlock berries and Peeta accepted them—it was a done deal.

How was Seneca Crane going to get out of this one? He couldn't possibly have the Games end with _no_ Victor. It was unheard of. He thought back to every Game he had watched—all seventy-one of them—and then the last two that he had orchestrated. A tribute had never threatened suicide. Two tributes had never been in love in the Games before. Alliances were always short lived, especially amongst the Careers. The audience loved to see the Career alliance break apart, enjoyed seeing them backstab each other. This year was entirely different though. The Capitol _had_ to have a winner. _One Victor was better than none. Even two Victors were better than none._

Claudius Templesmith must've been on the same wavelength as Crane because soon his frantic voice was calling for Peeta and Katniss to stop just as they raised the nightlock berries to their mouths. He announced them as the winners of the 74th Hunger Games and Crane was relieved. There were two winners this year which was a change from the standard one winner, but what choice did he have? How would he explain this to President Snow?

The answer to that question came sooner than he expected. Two Peacekeepers showed up at the Game Room less than an hour after the Games concluded.

"President Snow would like to speak with you privately."

Lucia sent Crane a worried glance and he forced himself to smile back. Crane waved good-bye to her and the rest of the Gamemakers who watched in complete silence as he was escorted out of the Game Room. Crane had no way of knowing this was the last time he would exit the Game Room and that his staff would never see him again.

Soon, Crane was alone with Snow in his presidential suite…and Crane had never felt so terrified in his entire life. His heart slammed against his chest and he struggled to breathe in a calm manner. It was the first time he experienced the same choking fear that most tributes experienced the moment their names were called during the reapings and when they were launched into the arena.

Snow said nothing. He stared at Seneca Crane, his snake-like gaze, unblinking and deadly.

Crane broke the awful silence. "We have to ensure there's a winner." He paused, unsure if he should continue. He decided to keep going, to defend his reasons for allowing both District 12 tributes to win. "You said it yourself when you asked me 'why do we have a winner?'"

Snow continued to stare down Crane. He gave no indication that he heard him.

"Should I have let them kill themselves? How would the audience react? What would the Capitol do?"

Finally, Snow spoke in a calm tone that chilled Crane.

"You have an unfortunate sentimental streak."

Crane's jaw dropped. _Sentimental streak?_ He didn't permit Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark to live because he felt sorry for them. Nor did he totally buy the whole "we're-in-love-but-fate-won't-let-us-be-together" act. He was following Snow's directives about having a winner. Then it struck him: Snow had told him to "contain the spark".

Crane's eyes widened as the realization hit him.

He had failed to "contain the spark". He could've stopped Katniss and Peeta at any time during their final exchange in the Games. All he had to do was press a few buttons to ensure another calamity befell the District 12 tributes—mainly Katniss. He hadn't done anything and now it was too late. He was left wondering how Snow would punish him for this failure. At that same moment, Snow gestured towards two Peacekeepers to enter the room. Snow nodded at them.

"Please escort Seneca Crane to the room that's been set up for him," Snow said.

Crane's eyebrows rose in curiosity, but he didn't ask. The two Peacekeepers that had brought him to Snow, now followed behind him. They stopped at a room with double doors and gestured him to enter as they each opened a door. Crane walked into the room, uncertain of what to expect. Just as he was looking around the room, he heard the doors close behind him. Crane turned around and grabbed the handle, but it was locked. Sighing, Crane turned back around and approached the gold table in the middle of the room. A beautiful glass dish sat atop the table filled with nightlock berries.

It became very clear to Crane what Snow's intentions were. Crane took a deep breath and considered his options. He could consume the poisonous berries…or he could find another way out. Either way, he would surely die in this room…it was just a matter of how it would happen. Seneca Crane shivered at the prospect of the entire situation. Just hours ago, he was wondering how he would outmaneuver Katniss and Peeta when they had the berries in the arena. Then he wondered how he would explain, or rather, _convince_ President Snow about having two winners instead of none. There was no way to appease Snow. That's why he was in this room.

The last question that he would ever ask in his life was how he was going to bring about his own end…


	82. If

**82\. If **

**_What If…?_**

Some nights, long after Peeta has slipped into a peaceful sleep, and she has finished tucking in their children; Katniss is wide awake, plagued by The Ifs. She decides to write down on a scrap of paper all the "Ifs" that haunt her mind in those late hours and imagines how her life would be different if these Ifs had happened.

If there had been no Dark Days.

If her father hadn't been killed in the mining accident.

If there had been no Hunger Games.

If the Capitol and the Districts were truly united and equal.

If there had been no Reapings.

If Primrose was one year younger the year of the 74th Hunger Games and hadn't been reaped.

If she had found a way to thank Peeta for giving her the bread that saved her family from starvation.

If Haymitch had never discovered how to use the forcefield to win his Games.

If Gale had been reaped and not Peeta.

If she had never went to the Hunger Games.

If she didn't have Cinna for a stylist and friend.

If Cato had killed her in the arena.

If Cato had killed Peeta in the arena.

If Rue had survived and not her.

If Thresh hadn't come in the nick of time and stopped Clove from killing her.

If she and Peeta had both consumed the nightlock berries.

If the Gamemakers had killed either her or Peeta in the arena when they pulled the nightlock stunt.

If Mags hadn't sacrificed herself for her and Peeta.

If Gale and her would still be friends (or even lovers) if not for Prim's death.

If Prim was still alive and hadn't been killed during the last rebellion.

If she had executed Snow as planned.

If Coin had taken over Panem.

If she had been executed for assassinating Coin.

If a final Hunger Games starring the children of the Capitol's elite citizens had taken place.

If she had never volunteered in Prim's place.

If her father hadn't taken her to the woods and taught her to survive...

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Special thank you to Savanah Rose for pointing out the final "what-if" that Katniss brings up: if her father hadn't taken her to the wood to survive. That's s very important piece and it's because of Mr. Everdeen that Katniss is a strong survivor. I totally missed this! Thank you, Savanah, for bringing it up and for your continued readership! :-)


	83. And

**83.** **And **

**_A Lasting Connection_**

Katniss could never be separate from Peeta in the 74th Hunger Games. In fact, she would never be free from him ever again.

Peeta had seen to that in his interview with Caesar Flickerman. The Capitol ran away with the star-crossed lovers story. Their names were always connected by "and". It was the first time in the history of the Hunger Games that two tributes were constantly linked together.

Katniss Everdeen _and_ Peeta Mellark.

Peeta Mellark _and_ Katniss Everdeen.

The Capitol and the Districts would never be the same again…all because of that connection.


	84. He

**84.** **He**

 ** _It's Better To Be Hated For Who You Are…_**

Coriolanus Snow is very ambitious from a very young age. He will do everything he can to chase after power, obtain it, and hold onto it.

"It's like loose change that easily slips through your fingers if you're not careful with it," his father, Cassius Snow, once told him. "You must hold onto power tightly, otherwise you will lose it. Once lost, you can never gain it back."

So he learns that the best way to keep power is to murder those who he perceives as potential threats. Snow doesn't realize his paranoia is similar to Macbeth's from that ancient Shakespearean play, but he convinces himself that the blood on his hands is meaningful and has purpose. It helps to squash any ounce of guilt residing in his conscience.

After a period of time, he finds that honesty is truly his favorite virtue, although he knows he is deficient in it from time to time. Maybe it's due to fear that others could see through him, he learns to believe in the power of the absolute truth…almost as much as he believes in absolute power.


	85. She

** 85\. ****She**

 ** _…_** ** _Than To Be Loved For What You Are Not_**

Alma Coin learns her last name matches her character.

Two sides, two natures, two facades.

One public. One private.

One that portrays fighting for the good of District 13, and eventually, all the Districts in Panem. One that secretly craves power and will do anything to obtain it. Coin is devious as her namesake suggests. The woman of two natures knows how to wield power and manipulate others to get what she wants. Once she has achieved her goals, she discards those she doesn't need.

Unlike Snow, who believes in having an honest relationship with Katniss Everdeen, Coin keeps one hand hidden behind her back as it holds a knife, while the other hand welcomes the Girl on Fire to District 13.

Coin doesn't realize until the arrow pierces her heart, that if she plays with fire, she will get burned.


	86. Choices

**86.** **Choices**

 ** _The Power and Consequences of Choices_**

All her life she had made choices. Some choices were automatic because the reality was there no other options. When her father died, it was hunt to feed her mother and Prim, or starve to death. She chose the former because the latter was a horrible alternative. She knew her father wouldn't want his family to die like that: sharp pangs of hunger, begging for food, barely surviving on scraps. She was angry with her mother for letting depression take over and forcing her to grow up fast, but there was Prim to worry about, to take care of. Prim shouldn't have to suffer a second parent's death, so Katniss took over for her mother when her mother didn't have the strength to carry on.

Other choices were far more difficult. Choices that led to permanent consequences. Choices that forever changed her life, Prim's life, Peeta's life, and the lives of everyone in Panem, both in the Districts and the Capitol.

Choosing to volunteer in Prim's place for the 74th Hunger Games was necessary. She made up her mind the moment she heard Prim's name at the reaping. She would _not_ allow Prim to enter the Games. Prim was too young and innocent to be carted off to be thrown in the horror of the Capitol's annual death tournament. She would run to the stage and announce her volunteering for the Games all over again if it meant Prim's life would be saved. Just like she would pull out the nightlock and let the Capitol believe that she and Peeta were willing to kill themselves out of love, if it meant they would both survive.

At a later point, she would choose between Peeta and Gale. That choice was simply based on whom she needed to face everyday after the war was over. It wasn't based on love or infatuation. Those were experiences that she had little knowledge of and experience with. She knew she felt love for both of them, but in very different ways. She made her decision based on which man understood her, and who knew what she needed in order to survive in this new tattered life of fragments consisting of constant nightmares and strained hope.

Katniss needed healing, not hatred. She wanted to look forward to the future, not look back on her past filled with fear. To remain at Gale's side meant to be consumed by his hatred, and it also meant her anger towards him would be the end of her. To be with Peeta meant resiliency. It meant rebuilding, beginning the healing process, and taking each day as a blessing that they were alive. Being with Peeta meant hope and new life, something that Katniss yearned for and needed after all she had lost.

Her final choice would end the war and revolutionize Panem forever.

Walking towards President Snow on that cold morning, she reviewed the possible outcome of her choices of whom to assassinate. Not that it mattered…she was dead inside the moment the bombs exploded around Prim. She wondered if Prim was given the choice to join the emergency medics that day. After all, she wasn't really given a choice to play the role of the Mockingjay for the rebels. They manipulated and played their own games to get her to do what they wanted.

Other people had made choices, too. Ever since President Snow had told her the truth, she knew what she had to do. She was aware that President Snow could've chosen to lie, to connive—to deceive his way out of public execution. He chose to be honest. This forced her to face the fact that the real enemy was none other than the leader of the rebels—President Alma Coin. Still, the options played around in her mind.

Should she assassinate Snow?

Or Coin?

Who was the lesser of two evils?

If Snow survived, he would rise to power again. The Hunger Games would continue for decades to come, and he'd ensure the next Hunger Games would be remembered for generations. Her execution would be broadcasted live across Panem. She would be made an example and forced to die a humiliating, slow, and painful death far worse than any death imaginable in the arena. If Coin was president of Panem, she would oppress the Capitol, starting with murdering Capitol children in one final Hunger Games. Based on what Boggs had told her, she knew that Coin would find a way to eliminate her permanently. In fact, in her eyes, Coin had already topped Snow in terms of who was the worse leader. At least, Snow was honest with her. Coin reflected her namesake: two sided…two faced…

Two choices: Snow or Coin.

The only option was to ensure that Panem wouldn't revert back to its previous state with the Hunger Games in effect. That was all Katniss Everdeen needed to make her final decision. By the time she was in position with her bow and arrow, she already made her choice, even as President Snow smirked at her and mouthed his final words:

 _Let it fly, Ms. Everdeen. Let. It. Fly…_


	87. Life

**87.** **Life**

 ** _To Save a Life_**

Peeta Mellark had no intention of revealing his love for Katniss to the public of Panem. He didn't expect to return home. He came to terms with the fact that he would die in the arena, knowing that he had cared for Katniss for almost his entire life and that she would never know about it. It was just as well that Katniss, like everyone else, was finding out for the first time about Peeta's feelings.

He didn't plan it that way.

But Caesar…Caesar Flickerman kept pressing him about having a girlfriend back home and "look at that face!" Peeta knew he had no choice, but to run with it. He didn't expect it to happen, but now he would use it play the Capitol crowd.

Haymitch had mentioned it was important to get people to like you, in order to survive the Games. Sponsors could make the difference between life and death in the arena. If he revealed his feelings for her, maybe it would save her life. He wanted the Capitol audience to see what he saw in her…she was amazing, beautiful, tough, and strong. No one matched her bow and arrow skills. She had a sacrificial heart. Katniss' heart didn't beat for herself, but for her sister, Prim.

And Peeta's heart was hers, she just didn't know it yet. If the Capitol adored her as much as he did, then it would save her life.


	88. School

**88.** **School **

**_Life Lessons_**

Willow ran home from school the day her parents' names were mentioned in connection with the rebellion that changed Panem forever.

It was the first time hearing and recognizing their names when learning about the history and government of Panem. She knew something was weird when Cassie Eves kept turning around to glare at her. _Your parents are famous,_ she mouthed the words to Willow. As though Willow was responsible for her parents' lives and decisions before she was born. Cassie Eves had never been friendly towards her, but now she was being mean.

Cassie saw to it that all the girls in their class turned Willow into an outcast. Willow ignored the girls gathered around Cassie during lunch time. They were clumped together, staring at her as though she could spit fireballs at them. She noticed how they became quiet when she walked by and how their high voices dropped to barely audible whispers. Willow didn't understand why Cassie was being so hateful and decided it wasn't her problem. Cassie was pathetic.

She wondered if the other children knew that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were her parents. No one had said anything to her about it. Even Ms. Rose had taught the lesson on Panem history just as she had taught previous lessons. If she knew Willow was the daughter of Katniss and Peeta, she didn't mention it. It was probably the last name that gave it away. _Mellark. Everdeen._ Willow's last name was hyphenated to include both. She didn't like it, but it wasn't her decision. Cassie was the only one making a big deal. It was as though she felt jealous that Willow's parents had been discussed in school and her parents were anonymous. No one, not Cassie Eves or her friends, or anyone else knew that Willow's parents were like anyone else's parents.

She thought about all the simple things they did together that Willow enjoyed. Every night they had dinner as a family. Sometimes they had rabbit or squirrel, or other game, depending on what her mother caught that day. Her father was teaching her how to bake all sorts of delicious pastries, breads, and cookies that he sold in his bakery. Every Saturday she would wake up early with him and he would teach her something new. Last week, she had learned how to make bread for the first time. Mixing ingredients and kneading the bread was a lot more work than she expected, but it was definitely fun! This week, he would teach her to bake a cake. She really wanted to learn how to make designs using frosting. Her father's designs were the prettiest and most detailed!

Her mother took her into the woods so she could learn to distinguish edible and poisonous plants. She was also learning how to set snares. Her mother said when she turned ten years old, she would teach Willow how to use a bow and arrow. Willow had one more year to go—she couldn't wait to learn!

At least once a month, her parents would take her and her baby brother, Rye, to the meadow to have a picnic. It was a family tradition. Just the four of them together, eating pastries her father had baked, playing games, picking flowers, and watching the sunset together as a family. Her mother once told her that watching the sunset was her father's favorite thing to do after a long day.

"He likes the color of the sun and sky when the day is ending," Her mother once told her.

Willow had been confused. "Bright yellow?"

"No, yellow is my favorite color, next to green. Your father loves orange. Sunset orange."

Ever since then, Willow made sure to watch the sun setting over the horizon, so that she too could enjoy the striking orange that painted the sky at the end of the day.

To Willow, her parents were just ordinary parents. They did things like most parents did: they had Willow clean her room before going out to play, scolded her if she was mean to Rye, read her bedtime stories, had her set the table every night for dinner, reminded Willow to share her toys with younger brother…

These same parents were involved in those awful Games. They had fought in a bloody rebellion so that she and other kids her age wouldn't have to participate or get "reaped". Her teacher, Ms. Rose, said they were called the "Hunger Games" and it was a yearly tournament where the youth in all twelve Districts, ages 12-18, would have their names chosen randomly at an event called "the Reaping". Whoever was chosen—or volunteered—these kids were sent to an arena to fight to the death. To the death.

 _Death…_

The word kept resounding in Willow's mind. This meant all these kids were forced to kill each other. What made it worse was that everyone was watching it on television. The Games were treated as entertainment. Ms. Rose said the Hunger Games went on for seventy-five years…Willow had did the math on scrap paper…over one thousand children and youth were killed in those Games. She shivered at the thought of being forced into an arena with other kids her own age (such as her classmates) and being killed with the entire nation watching. Suddenly the world wasn't safe anymore. It was a very dangerous and terrifying place to live in.

And die in.

 **oOo**

Willow stared into the weathered faces of her parents. For the first time, she picked up on the sadness peeking through her father's blue eyes. She had the same blue eyes as him. Her father smiled at her and beckoned her to come over. He held her close and hugged her tightly. Willow had never felt safer than she did at that moment. Her father released her and then Willow looked into the gray eyes of her mother. She now saw the heaviness there and realized her mother's gray eyes had seen a lot of death, violence, turmoil, and loss.

"It's a lot to explain," her father finally said. "It will take time and we won't get through all of it today, but we'll start. In time, you'll learn everything. It's better that you learn about it from your parents and not just what they teach you at school. Katniss?"

Her mother left the living room and came back with a book. Willow had seen the book as a younger child. She would often flip through the pages, mesmerized by her father's artistic talents. The portraits he had painted were beautiful and lifelike. She used to wonder about these people; sometimes she made up fictional lives for them. She knew they were important people to her parents. Willow would read the names, but had no inkling who they really were.

 _Cinna. Rue. Mags. Cato. Thresh. Castor. Boggs. Foxface. Finnick. Annie. Messalla. Clove. Johanna. Gale. Beetee._

There were some names and faces she recognized like "Haymitch" and "Effie" (whom she liked to call "Uncle Haymitch" and "Aunt Effie") because they visited the family several times a month…but there were so many other faces she didn't know. Now she realized that her parents had known these people. They were real and had been in their lives before she was born. Her parents wanted to remember these people.

Her father sat down with her mother. "Let's start at the beginning."

Katniss opened the book to the first page. "You know who this is."

The portrait showed a young girl between the ages of twelve and fourteen with pale blonde hair. Her blue eyes were wide, innocent, and yet held a wisdom beyond her years. She held a yellowish-orange cat with an ear that looked like it had been bit off, a mashed-in nose, and dark green eyes.

"That's Aunt Prim," Willow said. "She's holding Buttercup."

"Yes, this is Aunt Prim with Buttercup. She was my younger sister. I volunteered in her place."

"You volunteered, Mom? What do you mean?" But even as she has finished asking the question, she knew the answer. "For the Games…"

Willow watched her mother nod slowly. "Yes, I took her place in the Games. It was your aunt's first reaping. When that happens, your name is entered only once. So the odds of your name being reaped are small, but it can still happen."

"They put your name in once when you're twelve years old. Two times when you're thirteen, three times when you're fourteen, four times when you're fifteen, five times when you're sixteen, six times when you're seventeen, and seven times when you're eighteen," her father explained.

"So every year that passes, there's a higher chance of being picked for the Games?" Willow's eyes widened in fright, although she knew she never would experience this terrifying anticipation first-hand. She felt grateful that she was spared such an awful situation, and that it was her parents who were the main reason why she didn't have to go through the reaping. Then she felt guilty for having those thoughts and feelings. She didn't know what to think or feel.

"Exactly," her father said. "Sometimes you entered your name more than once on purpose for tesserae."

"What's 'tesserae'?"

Now her mother took over. "It's where you enter your name more than once as Dad mentioned, in exchange for a tiny supply oil and grain for the year, so that your family has more food to eat. You can do it once for each person."

Willow's parents watched as she processed this information. "So you risk getting picked and killed in the arena if you put your name more than once, but you do that exchange for more food or supplies for the year?"

"Right and by the time of the 74th Hunger Games, my name had been in the reaping bowl twenty times. When I was twelve, I put in tesserae for myself, Aunt Prim, and your grandmother."

Willow was confused and yet she was starting to understand the horror of the entire situation. "And Aunt Prim was only entered once and she was picked?!"

Her mother took a deep breath and then nodded. Willow saw her mother wipe away tears. She went to her mother to hold her and was glad when she felt her mother's arms wrap around her protectively. "Yes, her name was entered in only once and she was the name that Effie reaped."

Willow pulled away abruptly, anger and confusion written in her face. " _Aunt Effie_ pulled out Aunt Prim's name?! How could she be my aunt and—and…"

Her body trembled as sadness overwhelmed her. Before she could stop, tears were running down her face. The very woman who visited with her family every month, who had been friends with her parents for years, who brought lovely clothes and intricate toys from the Capitol for her and Rye, who brought her favorite meals (not that she didn't like her mother's roasted rabbit and spiced greens)—that _same_ woman reaped her aunt's name for the Games?!

Willow wanted to go to her room and tear up all the beautiful dresses Effie Trinket gave her over the years. She wanted to destroy the toys she and Rye had received as gifts. Willow rushed around the living room and ignored her parents calling out to her. She found Rye's favorite toy: an electronic game console with bright colors and flashing lights. In a fit of rage, Willow threw it against the wall and the toy smashed to pieces. There, that felt better…but only a little. She was about to run upstairs to her room and rip up those dresses when she felt her father's strong arms lift her into the air and bring her to where her mother was sobbing on the couch. He gently sat her down and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Willow found she was shaking uncontrollably as a flood of emotions overpowered her and soon she was crying again.

"How could she…Aunt Effie…I hate her…do you hear me?" Her voice rose and then screeched across the room. "I—hate— _her_! Don't ever let her come here again—I don't want to see her!"

Before she could say anything more, she found herself being held by both her parents. Her mother's arms were encircled her small frame and her father was in front of her, holding her hands in his. She vaguely noticed that his hands were covered with flour; he had been baking earlier. She needed to feel her parents' protection. She needed to feel safe. Everything in her life now was upside-down and dangerous. The people she thought she knew and loved, she realized she didn't know. In fact, she had no idea who they really were now and that was the worst and scariest part.

For some reason, Willow thought of Cassie Eves at school. Maybe Cassie Eves was right to hate her, although she hated Cassie Eves right back. Now that Willow thought about it, Cassie Eves probably knew way more about these Hunger Games than she let on. Maybe that's why she was angry at Willow. But that was a weird reason for Cassie to be angry at her.

"Listen, Willow. I need you to listen to what your father and I are telling you. Aunt Effie is _not_ a bad person. She—"

"Yes. She. Is." Willow refused to budge.

"This is what I was worried about, Peeta. How will we explain everything…it's too much for her. It will be too much for him, too, when that time comes."

Willow listened to her mother plead with her father.

"We need to tell her the truth, Katniss. Today. We can't let her return to school until we've told her everything. Even if it means she's out of school for the rest of the week or even next week or an entire month—I don't care about that. What matters is that we put it out there in a way she can understand. I don't want this responsibility on the school. It's ours and ours alone."

Willow closed her eyes, pretending not to hear her parents talk about her like she wasn't in the room.

"You're right; it's better that it comes from us," her mother said. Willow thought she sounded reluctant. "We don't know what the school will say or not say."

"Right, at least we know what information we're giving her, but we don't know how the school will present it. I can call them tomorrow and speak to Ms. Rose about it."

"Do you think she'll understand?"

"I'm sure she will, she doesn't have a choice."

"Okay, I'll call first thing tomorrow morning."

There was a long silence after that between Willow and her parents.

"Willow, open your eyes." She heard her father's gentle voice, the one that told her funny stories to help her go back to sleep when she had nightmares. "Willow." She closed her eyes tighter, refusing to listen. "Willow. Stop this and open your eyes. _Now._ " She knew better than to test her father when he used _that_ tone of voice.

Willow opened her eyes and stared into her father's blue eyes. She had stopped crying, although she was still sniffling. She felt his hands become lighter.

"I know this is very upsetting and a lot of information to take in. Mom and me will tell you everything. It's a lot…but I need you to listen. You can stop us and ask us questions and we'll answer everything…but I need you to listen, okay? Can you do that for me and Mom?"

Willow nodded and a tiny smile lit up her face when her father wiped the last of her tears from her face.

"You must believe me and Mom when I tell you that Effie isn't a bad person. She's from the Capitol which you know already. When we met her, she was an escort and it was her job to reap the names from the reaping balls."

Willow breathed slowly as she listened. "Did she like her job?"

"I don't think so," her father said, but he had hesitated before answering his daughter's question, which she picked up.

"If she didn't like it, then why did she do it?"

"There's something very important that you have to understand, Willow."

Willow waited to hear the rest. She felt the anger leaving her body and now she was curious. "What's that, Daddy?"

"Not every Capitol citizen involved in the Games was in favor of the Games. Just because they were from the Capitol didn't mean they liked it. Some of our friends like Effie and Plutarch are from the Capitol and they were against the Games. Now, when your mother and I first met Effie, she was doing what she had been trained to do, what was expected of her to do. Reaping was her job and maybe she liked it. I really don't know. The next time she had to do it, she was very upset. You see, Effie grew to love us, and we grew to love her."

"That's why she still comes over to visit us?"

Willow began to feel the warmth she always felt towards Effie when she came to visit the family. It was Effie who spent time with her, played games with her, who tried doing her hair in several different styles and would joke _"I couldn't be a stylist"_ , who took walks with her down to the Hob whenever she visited, who taught her about manners and etiquette. That was Effie's favorite thing: manners. And Effie had a way of teaching Willow that always made Willow laugh. Willow knew Effie loved her…and she loved Effie.

"Yes, that's why."

Willow turned to her mother, who answered the question.

"Effie reaped your aunt's name…I didn't want her going to the Games. She was too young, only twelve years old. I volunteered in her place…before Aunt Prim reached the stage, I pushed her behind me…" Her mother sighed as she relived the memory of it.

Her father and mother released her now and Willow slowly went back to the book of portraits. She stared at Aunt Prim's portrait and the flipped several pages to see Aunt Effie's. She noticed for the first time that Effie looked very different. Effie's hair was a bright (almost obnoxious) pink and the markings around her eyes were a similar color.

"Aunt Effie wore a lot of make-up," Willow said.

"Yes, but I'm working on a painting of how she looks today. She's more natural now, she doesn't wear the wigs—"

Willow busted out laughing. The idea that Aunt Effie used to wear wigs was hilarious to her. She heard her mother come to sit beside her on the floor.

"Yes, Aunt Effie used to wear wigs," her mother said, laughing alongside her. "She looks a lot prettier when she's herself, right?"

"Mmm-hmm," Willow agreed. "What color wigs did she used to wear?"

"Oh wow," her mother said, smiling at her. "All colors of the rainbow. She had so many of them. Even gold and silver."

"Really? Can she bring me some?"

Her mother shrugged. "If she still has them."

"I have one question about…Aunt Effie," Willow said the word "aunt" with great care.

Her parents indicated for her to continue.

"Was she responsible for Aunt Prim's death?"

"No." Her mother shook her head. Willow felt relieved when she saw both her parents shaking their heads. "Effie had no part in Aunt Prim's death. I'll explain what happened to Aunt Prim another time. Just know now that Effie had no role in it. Yes, she reaped my sister's name and that set the ball in motion for everything that happened—me volunteering and everything else that happened after. But Effie didn't do anything that contributed to Prim's death. She loved your aunt."

Willow nodded as a quiet calm took over her. She closed the book of portraits. "Will you tell me everything? Everything that happened? How you know these people and what happened to them. Some of them are…" She hesitated before she said the word, "dead."

"And still very much alive in our hearts," her father said, joining hands with her mother.

"We'll tell you everything," her mother answered. "For now, you can look at the portraits and write down questions if you need to. Your father and I will tell you all of it."

"We will, Willow," her father agreed. "We just ask that you let us be the ones to talk to Rye about it, okay?"

"Yes, Dad."

Willow put the book aside and hugged her parents. They held her close to them, their body warmth giving her a sense of peace and safety. This time, when she cried, her tears were full of love for her parents, and sadness for everything they had experienced in their lives, that she had yet to learn and would soon discover.


	89. Work

**89.** **Work**

 ** _That One Day_**

Peeta had worked at his parents' bakery for as long as he could remember. Up early in the morning making all sorts of breads and pastries. He was able to catch a few hours of the sunset later in the day and then would have to go right back to the bakery to prepare tomorrow's batch of fresh goods.

It's what he did, day in and day out. He went to school, but his parents wanted him to work more in the bakery than go to class. His father encouraged him to study, his mother made snippy comments that education wouldn't ensure his survival, but learning the trade of baking would. He managed to get to school at least three days a week, while his parents demanded he work in their bakery the other remaining days.

The only day of the year he didn't have to work was the day of the Reaping. Christmas, New Year's….he was in the bakery working long hours. The Reaping? He was getting dressed in his nicest clothes ever since he turned twelve years old. The Reaping was the only day of the year where he would do anything to be in the bakery's basement, frosting cakes, measuring ingredients, baking bread…

 _"Peeta Mellark!"_

When Effie Trinket reaped his name…Peeta wished he was busy at the bakery. He would do anything to be there in the early morning hours—going downstairs to get a sack of flour, dealing with nasty customers, having his mother yell at him for the hundredth time about stupid nonsense—not walking up to the stage accompanied by Peacekeepers knowing his life wasn't his anymore…

Not that it ever was.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I'm truly sorry for this late update. I like to update more frequently at least once a week if possible or every two weeks. Life has been happening lately, and I still have two of these ficlets in draft form (#90 and #92) that need to get finished. Please know that I intend to completely finish posting all the ficlets. I wouldn't come this far only to stop when there's only eleven more to go. Thank you for your patience and continued readership. Thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed, I greatly appreciate it!

 _ **-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	90. Home

**90.** **Home**

 ** _Prim's Wish Comes True_**

Prim was glued to the television screen as she held Buttercup in her lap. She didn't turn around when she heard the raspy breathing behind her. She knew it was her mother trying not to cry. If Prim saw her mother crying, she didn't know how she'd react. She didn't want to feel angry at her mother, but she didn't want to take on her mother's emotions. Prim's heart was overflowing with excitement and anticipation: the Games were finally down to the last two tributes standing.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

Prim never imagined her sister would make it this far. She believed in Katniss' ability to survive, but every single minute that Katniss was alive meant she faced the real possibility of her televised death. Prim had various ways of coping with anticipatory grief. The first day Katniss ran into the woods with the backpack she had gotten from the bloodbath, Prim cried. Then she buried her face in Buttercup's fur when the Careers chased Katniss. She wanted to run into another room in the Everdeen household, but had forced herself to watch the unthinkable. On the same night Katniss was treed, Prim couldn't hold what little food she ate that night and ended up vomiting out of sheer fright. At times, she couldn't sleep and towards the end of the Games, she'd stay awake all night imagining Katniss in the arena. Even though she couldn't fall asleep in District 12, Prim hoped Katniss was able to rest whenever possible. She needed to be alert to any threats. Vigilance was a necessity in the Games, not a luxury.

During the day was so much worse. Katniss had come close to meeting death many times. If it weren't the Gamemakers making fake forest fires or creating mutts, then there the human threats she had to avoid. It was always the Careers who targeted her. Prim didn't know why they kept pursuing her older sister. Maybe they viewed her as a threat, since Katniss had scored an 11 during training—the first time any tribute had been awarded that high score. First, they treed her, then Glimmer shot an arrow at her, Cato climbed after her, Marvel aimed his spear at her and killed Rue, and Clove…Clove was the closest to murdering Katniss. She had survived every attempt they made to end her life.

That was then, and this was now. Katniss was minutes away from being declared Victor along with Peeta. It meant she could return home. The image of Katniss walking through their house brought tears to Prim's eyes. Tears of joy, happiness, and joy that her sister would live the rest of her life with her family…Prim squeezed Buttercup close to her and the cat meowed in protest.

"Sorry, Buttercup." She rubbed the cat between his ears and he purred, although he sounded like he was growling.

She forced herself to focus on the television screen. It was the finale of the Games and Katniss had "the odds in her favor" as President Snow liked to say every year when a tribute was victorious or close to victory. She was still standing—and she was with Peeta. District 12's tributes. Didn't Claudius Templesmith announce earlier that the last two tributes standing from the same District could be declared the Victors? What was taking them so long to announce Katniss and Peeta's victory? Were they waiting on purpose to get the Capitol audience worked up in a mad frenzy? Prim's question was soon answered when she heard Claudius Templesmith's voice on the screen, although he was nowhere to be seen:

 _"_ _Attention tributes, there has been a slight rule change. The previous revision allowing for two Victors from the same District has been revoked. Only one Victor may be crowned. Good luck! And may the odds be ever in your favor."_

Prim's mouth felt like she had swallowed a cup of sand.

Hope shriveled up and died causing her body to ache all over. She should've known it was too good to be true that the Capitol would allow _both_ Katniss and Peeta to leave the arena alive. After all these years, Prim knew she shouldn't be surprised. The Capitol loved to do all sorts of tricks to ensure they put on a good show, achieved high ratings, and captured an attentive audience. Although she couldn't remember too many Games', she remembered one year when two Careers—one from District Two, and the other from District Four—were forced to turn against each other at the end when they were the final two tributes. It had been a gory fight with broken limbs, gashes, blood spilling. Prim had nightmares that night and Katniss had sang her to sleep.

 _"_ _Deep in the meadow…under the willow…"_

Tears sprung in Prim's eyes when she heard Katniss' soft singing voice in her head. She allowed herself to cry freely. She could hear the song playing in her head just as Katniss sang it to her the morning of this year's Reaping. And how she sang it to Rue as she died in Katniss' arms. Prim heard loud sobbing coming from her mother. She was more distraught than earlier. Mrs. Everdeen feared the same scenario as Prim: Katniss and Peeta would be forced to kill each other. Only one tribute could walk out of the arena. _There could only be one victor..._ At the exact moment that Prim wondered who would be the lone victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games, her eyes widened as she watched her sister on the television.

Katniss reached into her pocket and opened her palm to reveal nightlock. Peeta looked shocked and put his palm over hers, thinking she meant to kill herself. Then she was telling Peeta to trust her, while putting some of the nightlock into _his_ hand!

Mrs. Everdeen had stopped crying and was now breathing unevenly as she sat down next to Prim.

"Katniss…what are you doing?" Prim whispered.

She squeezed Buttercup again, but she didn't hear him hiss. Her heart was banging in her ears so loudly that everything else was background noise. She knew nightlock was poisonous. The deadly berries could kill a human being in less than a minute. She remembered Katniss telling her that their father showed them to her in the woods. Prim's body was encased in chills when she recalled what Katniss and Mr. Everdeen had said about nightlock berries:

 _"_ _You'll be dead before they reach your stomach."_

But Katniss couldn't hear her in the arena. She was focused on Peeta and Peeta was focused on her.

"Together?" he asked.

"Together." The certainty in Katniss' voice was unmistakable.

They were counting to three—then they were raising the berries to their mouths—

 _"_ _Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74_ _th_ _annual Hunger Games."_

Prim's heart stopped. She had barely registered the shock in Templesmith's voice telling Peeta and Katniss to stop…followed by his reluctant tone in declaring them both winners. None of that mattered. Katniss—and Peeta—were coming home! Just as the shocking realization hit Prim, there was a loud knock at their door. Prim rushed over to the front door to let in whoever it was. She didn't realize that she had dropped Buttercup when she had bolted up and now he scampered away to find his favorite hiding spot. She could barely hear her mother crying when she threw open the door.

Mr. and Mrs. Mellark were on the other side, their faces were a strange ashy color—probably from the sheer shock that their son was actually returning home after trying to survive in that hellish arena. Gale was standing behind them and Prim couldn't pinpoint his facial expression: elation, relief, triumph, sadness...? She knew they must've just saw the conclusion of the Games and wanted to get to the Everdeen home as fast as possible. Prim invited them inside and then she felt her mother breeze past her as both Victors' parents hugged each other for several minutes without saying a word.

"She's coming home, Mom!" Prim said, allowing herself to feel both the surprise and happiness.

She watched as her mother trembled while still surrounded by both Mr. and Mrs. Mellark.

"They're coming home," Mr. Mellark murmured. "Both our children…"

Prim watched as the adults embraced each other and then turned to Gale. His lips were pressed into a thin line and he shook his head. Prim frowned, confused as to why Gale had that expression. She couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling. Then he nodded his head in a knowing manner.

"She defied them…Catnip, you don't know what you've started."

As Gale's words sunk in and Templesmith's words rang in her mind, Prim suddenly realized the significance of Katniss bringing out the nightlock. Two Victors would be crowned in this year's Hunger Games'. This had never happened in the history of the Games. She had no idea what Katniss and Peeta had set in motion during their final minutes in the arena. She just knew she would rather for Katniss to defy the Capitol and die on her own terms, than to die by Peeta's or any other tribute's hand.

At that moment though, nothing was more important to Prim than Katniss returning home. Her one and only sister—the most amazing sister in the entire world would return home to District 12, fully alive. Not in a wooden casket baring the Capitol's or District 12's symbol. It was the dream of every tribute's family to see their son, daughter, brother, sister, niece, nephew, or cousin come home alive from the Games.

When she had said good-bye to Katniss in the Justice Building, she had prepared herself for the day when she wouldn't see Katniss alive again in front of her. Now she was coming back home…both Katniss and Peeta would return in a matter of days. Prim's dream had come true in a spectacular way that she had never anticipated...she just hoped this dream would continue for as long as she lived…


	91. Birthday

**91\. Birthday **

**_A Time to Celebrate, a Time to Mourn_**

Birthdays were celebrated in the Capitol, but mourned in the Districts.

The Capitol's youth had the most extravagant parties. Whether a young person entered their teen years or for coming-of-age birthdays, Capitol citizens spared no expense for their children. Fireworks, decadence, lavish ball gowns, expensive costumes designed by hired stylists, brought in on a throne carried by Avoxes, parades, horses, alcohol, cakes of every flavor, tables overflowing with food, and of course, every Capitolite's favorite: the special drink to consume so that they could throw up and eat again.

President's Snow's daughter celebrated her 16th birthday by going to the arenas of previous Games and reenacting the deaths of all the tributes. One Capitol citizen event had a miniature arena built for him and his guests with fake weapons to play their own Games. For some Capitol citizens, turning 18 years old meant that now they had the opportunity to help with the Hunger Games. They could earn an internship as a Gamemaker and help develop the arenas. This was the most sought after position for most young adults in the Capitol and there were several openings available every year…

Birthdays were dreaded in most of the Districts. The youth knew that the very birthday they celebrated today could be their last. The odds were not in favor for many of the Districts' children, especially those who turned twelve years old the night before the Reaping. If they had turned twelve years old the day or the week or the month after—they could live to see another year. So while a young girl in District 5 cried herself to sleep because she just turned twelve and tomorrow is Reaping Day…another young man in District 10 was relieved and rested peacefully at night for having the fortune to turn nineteen and having never been reaped for the Games…


	92. Christmas

**92.** **Christmas **

**_Memories of Prim and Rue_**

It was Christmas Day when Katniss decided to visit Prim's grave. Or rather, the memorial that she, Peeta, and Haymitch had placed in a secluded area in the meadow, one year after the war ended.

Katniss woke up that morning to the fresh aroma of baked bread that Peeta had left out for her on the encounter. Beside it was a note: _Katniss, I had to open the bakery for a few hours, but I'm closing early today at noon. I'll see you then. Love, Peeta._ She smiled, appreciative of Peeta's graciousness to open the bakery so that District 12 residents could make last-minute purchases for their families. It would ensure they had a delicious meal for later that evening. Katniss smeared some goat butter on the bread and swallowed it heartily as she left the house. Although the bread was delicious, she found her stomach was empty as she made her way to the remote area of the meadow.

After some time, she found the memorial. It wasn't hard to find—yellow dandelions, buttercups, and primroses surrounded a small garden stone with Prim's name engraved. The flora marked the area and every season of the year, the surrounding flowers bloomed. Katniss knew she could visit Prim's memorial garden any time of the year, but Christmas had been her sister's favorite holiday. Prim's happiness helped Katniss to enjoy the holidays because her excitement was contagious and unavoidable. Even Mrs. Everdeen made an effort to smile and sit with her daughters during those special days.

Katniss remembered their last Christmas together. It was memorable and not because Mrs. Everdeen made the effort to get out of bed, although Katniss appreciated her mother for pushing past her depression to join her family. She remembered Prim had wrapped a silver garland around Buttercup's body. Buttercup had rolled around, trying to get it off and ran out of the house. When he came back hours later, glittery strands of the silver garland were embedded in his yellow fur. Katniss smiled and just as quickly, the happy expression faded as someone else flashed through her mind.

Rue.

Whenever Katniss remembered Prim, thoughts of Rue followed right after. Their brief friendship during the Games had been a blessing to Katniss. She felt she owed Rue her life as the young girl had saved Katniss' life on more than one occasion. Images of the young girl from District 11 popped into her mind. Rue pointing out the tracker jacker nest to Katniss. Discovering how Rue helped her out—instead of killing her—after she had blacked out. Sharing lunch with Rue and sleeping in the tree together for protection and survival. Setting up the traps for the Careers. Finally, Rue's death at the hands of Marvel…

Katniss tried to think of more pleasant things about Rue, but inevitably, her thoughts darkened. She wondered which holiday Rue liked best. Katniss had a feeling that Rue and Prim shared the same favorite holiday. For the sake of Prim, Katniss decided that Rue's favorite holiday was Christmas—because it made sense for the two girls with similar personalities to enjoy the same time of the year. Questions with no answers filled her mind. Did Rue spend Christmas with her siblings—or did she have to work in the fields? What was Rue's favorite meal to eat on Christmas Day? What was Christmas like the first time Rue's siblings and parents celebrated the holiday without her?

A tidal wave of grief overwhelmed Katniss and she fell to her knees on the soft grass as tears rolled down her cheeks. Loss wasn't the only reason she couldn't stand. Guilt wrapped around her heart. She was standing over her sister's grave/memorial because she had failed to protect her…just as she failed to protect Rue. Katniss wondered if Rue's family stood over Rue's grave, the same way she stood over Prim's. And yet, Katniss was forced to face the ugly truth: there was no body underneath…not with the way Prim had been killed in the explosion. For some reason, this led to a stream of morbid thoughts and Katniss was powerless to stop it. She was certain Rue's family had been given Rue's body after the first Hunger Games. They probably set up a lovely gravesite for her in District 11, although Katniss had gave her a beautiful send-off by decorating her body with flowers when they were in the arena.

She sighed and slowly got to her feet. In her mind, it wasn't the first time she compared both girls. And it wouldn't be the last. Their youth and innocence was deeply touching, especially for Katniss who had become a hardened survivor at an early age. Both Prim and Rue were the same age and exhibited the same kindness and trusting demeanor. They were too young and too full of life for death to descend so quickly upon them…

Katniss headed back home after plucking one of each: a dandelion, buttercup, and primrose. She wondered what would've happened if she had never took Prim's place in the Games, and if Prim would've met Rue…would they have formed an alliance? Would they be friends if they had survived the Games and the War?

There were no answers to her questions.

So she did the only thing she could do to stop the constant questions and comparisons of both girls in her mind: she made a quiet memorial in her own home for them. Katniss placed the flowers in a yellow vase on the dining room table. She went to her and Peeta's bedroom and returned with two small portraits of Prim and Rue. Katniss placed a portrait on either side of the vase and stared into the bright yellow of the flower. As her flickered back and forth to the small portraits Peeta had painted of both girls, Katniss finally released her tears.

When Peeta walked in hours later, he was surprised to find Katniss sitting by herself in the dining room staring solemnly at two paintings he had made of Prim and Rue the week before. In between the paintings was a yellow vase holding various flowers of the same color. He could've interrupted her, asked her to help him cook Christmas dinner, but he knew this time of year was the most difficult for Katniss. It was heavy and emotional—although not to the same extent as the anniversary of both Rue's and Prim's deaths. He knew it was only a matter of time before Katniss joined him, but for now he would give her time and space to process her losses as it was the only way she knew how to celebrate Christmas: remembering those closest to her who had loved the holiday:

Prim and Rue.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This ficlet is dedicated to Savanah Rose: this was your idea/suggestion about having a time when Katniss reflects on both Prim and Rue. I appreciate the suggestion and this was the last prompt to be completed-I struggled with it before you mentioned your idea. I hope you are pleased with this ficlet and this is my way of thanking you for your thoughtfulness in reading and reviewing my story, and especially, your friendship and support during these past few months when I struggled. Thank you! _**-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	93. Thanksgiving

**93.** **Thanksgiving**

 ** _Thankful for Each Other_**

"Katniss, did you know that people used to celebrate a holiday called 'Thanksgiving' centuries ago before Panem existed?" Prim asked when she returned home from school one day.

Katniss was in the kitchen, skinning a rabbit for tonight's dinner. It took all day for her snares to catch any game. Some days were more difficult than others; and today, she was afraid her family would go to bed hungry. "I didn't know that. What happened on Thanksgiving?"

"Well…" Prim flipped through her schoolbook. "The English settlers and Native Americans sat together and had a meal to celebrate the harvest and give thanks for their blessings."

"That sounds nice."

"You don't sound impressed."

"It sounds okay."

Prim was right: Katniss wasn't impressed. Not when she knew half of District 12 was starving. Hearing about people sitting down to eat a huge meal reminded her of the Capitol. Katniss knew she shouldn't associate the Capitol's gluttony with historical figures who had attempted to enjoy a harmonious time. Still, it infuriated her that the Capitol would _never_ allow the Districts to sit at the same table with them. The Capitol flaunted its wealth and never shared it. It was overflowing wealth that came from the hard labor and sweat of the District people across Panem. Capitol citizens indulged in never-ending banquets, although there were hundreds of people starving in the Districts.

"Are you thankful for anything?"

Katniss placed the rabbit aside and looked thoughtfully at Prim. "I'm thankful I have you in my life and I'm thankful my family will have something to eat for tonight."

Prim smiled. She came over and hugged Katniss for a long while. Something inside Katniss' heart melted. Prim's love for her and her love for Prim always made its way into her heart, especially on days when she was full of anger. Katniss returned the gesture. She held her sister close to her, thankful that they had each other.


	94. Independence

**94** **.** **Independence**

 ** _Freedom Isn't Free_**

Decades before the Hunger Games became a horrifying reality in Panem life, District 13 rebelled against the Capitol, turning their nukes on them. As this was a very dark period in Panem's history, it would later be referred to as "The Dark Days" for future generations. The Capitol was caught off guard on how all the Districts had aligned together—seemingly overnight. Suddenly, their blanket of complacency was pulled off and thrown aside. How would they fend off the mounting Districts that had now unified to eliminate the Capitol? After all, there were thirteen Districts and only one Capitol. Capitol citizens knew they were outnumbered and terrified of what this meant for their way of life, and most of all, for their lives.

President Cassius Snow was Panem's leader during that chaotic time. He was faced with the real possibility that the Capitol would cease to exist if District 13 had the victory. The Rebels from that particular District made it clear what they wanted: Capitol citizens under subjugation and forced to fend for themselves. No more reliance or demands on the Districts. President Cassius Snow knew if District 13 had their way, none of the Districts would provide products, services, and goods to the Capitol. Not anymore. The Capitol wouldn't be able to survive, much less thrive. And he realized this was the biggest mistake the Capitol had made: depending on the Districts for their way of life, and not keeping them in line to prevent an uprising such as this.

Facing attacks from all sides and the fact that their population made up only a tenth of the entire country of Panem: there was no way they would win this war…until District 13 came up with a proposal that would free them from any consequences from the war that they had started.

President Adalet Coin proposed a truce that would benefit both parties. District 13 would play dead and the Capitol would remain safe. The Capitol would bomb them off the map of Panem so that they appeared to cease to exist. When District 13 secretly seceded in what could be considered a selfish attempt at self-preservation—the Capitol knew the rest of the Districts wouldn't be able to fight against them. They could no longer protect themselves. District 13's industry was graphite mining and producing nuclear weapons—it was the only District to have any weaponry. A lapidarist with twenty years of experience of cutting gems from District 1, to a coal miner from District 12 who just began their career—none these Districts and the other ten between them had ever prepared for an immense catastrophe such as war. War was never expected until District 13 initiated the First Rebellion, so no one considered it a reality until it was happening. By the time the leaders from the other Districts realized they were on their own to fight against the Capitol, District 13 was already long gone. The Capitol had made sure to televise the chemical bombs dropping on their territory so that there was no question that they had been obliterated.

District 13 had won their independence at the expense of the other Districts. The Rebels in the remaining twelve Districts paid a heavy price for rebelling. Public executions weren't enough to satisfy the Capitol's thirst for revenge and power. No. Future generations from every District had to be severely punished and warned of what would happen again if they even entertained the thought of rebelling again. Thus, the Hunger Games were born, and the Districts, once united against the Capitol, were now pitted against each other. To make it even worse, it was their children who were forced to experience the severe punishment of their forefathers. They paid with their blood and their lives. For the Capitol, watching their enemies tear each other down was entertaining—and it kept them in line. It was a great distraction from the real problems in Panem. It kept the focus on hating each other and not the Capitol.

And it kept them from remembering their real enemy…

Life in District 13 flourished underground for the next seventy-five years. They watched in silence as the remaining Districts were forced to participate in the Hunger Games as penance for their uprising. Some District 13 citizens felt guilty and refused to watch, while others who witnessed the bloodshed regained motivation and started planning to overtake the Capitol again. Those involved in planning the second rebellion knew District 13's independence came at a price. So although District 13 was silent and no longer a threat in the eyes of the Capitol—nothing could be further from the truth.


	95. New Year

**95\. New Year**

 ** _New, But Not New_**

For Capitol citizens, the New Year means new Hunger Games. New arena, new tributes, new ways to watch drama and death play out in the nation's televised entertainment. It becomes the favorite topic of conversation among Capitol citizens. What this year's Games will be like? Who will participate? What will happen? Who will be the Victor? What kind of arena will the tributes will fight in?

In the majority of the Districts, the people are terrified. Every year, their death toll climbs and there's no end in sight. In Districts 1, 2, and 4 there is expectation and anticipation of the annual Games. The honor of being a Victor, the glory of the Capitol's wealth and recognition are too good to pass up for trained tributes in Districts that provide training for the macabre "sport". For the remaining Districts, there's an air of hopelessness and fear that escalates as the time for the annual Reaping creeps closer with each passing day.

Promotion for the new Hunger Games begins early in the new year to increase anticipation and excitement. Television commercials are broadcasted across Panem to remind everyone of the blood and gore soon to come. After the 30th Hunger Games, President Snow insists the Gamemakers show reruns of previous Games, interviews, Victors' tours to satisfy the Capitol's bloodlust and quell any inkling of rebellion in the Districts.

In one Capitol household, Plutarch Heavensbee is only twelve years old as he listens to his parents discuss the Games from the previous year. It had been the 39th Games and that was the year that Beetee Latier, a scrawny 15 year old from District 3 wearing glasses with no hope or chance of winning—actually shocked the entire nation of Panem when he won his Games. They are replaying the 39th Games on television and Plutarch watches in awed silence as Beetee sets up an electric trap killing the last six tributes hunting him down. Moments later, there is the unmistakable sizzle of electricity and six tributes collapse at the same time. Dead.

Plutarch can't take his eyes off the television screen. A shocked and terrified Beetee cautiously steps out of his hiding spot behind the trees where he watched all the tributes die. Then there's the booming voice stating Beetee is the Victor of the 39th Hunger Games.

Plutarch remembers what the commentators, notably Caesar Flickerman describe as _"that moment a tribute becomes a victor."_ He watches the television screen, searching for "that moment." For Beetee to look elated, pump his fist in victory, show the camera that out of twenty-four tributes, he won the Hunger Games. Instead, Beetee sways and steadies himself. His face, arms, and legs are bruised. He's exhausted, hunched over, and gaunt from lack of eating, and he might faint from sheer fright that he had come so close to death. Even at a young age, Plutarch knows Beetee didn't kill for pleasure—he killed for survival. At that very moment, Plutarch Heavensbee recognizes the cruelty of the Games and vows that he will help end them. Unlike his parents, he takes no joy in watching the carnage year after year.

"Who thought the odds would be in _his_ favor?" Mrs. Heavensbee asks with a cutting edge in her tone. It's obvious she didn't expect Beetee to be the Victor in his Games. The way she spits out the word "his" makes Plutarch's blood run cold.

"They were though—he put his smarts to good use."

"Electrocuting your opponents…it's creative, I give him that."

"You should give him credit." Mr. Heavensbee sounds like he respects District 3 Victor. "That was genius on his part."

"Yes, but now I owe the ladies money. I was betting on District 1 or 2 this year to be this year's Victor."

Plutarch can't stand it anymore and exits the room. He ignores his parents calling out to him and leaves their conversation behind—betting on another person's life as though Beetee Latier was just an object and not a human being with a family of his own. It just strengthens his will to work for the Capitol—work to end all the legalized murder that's celebrated every year.

 **oOo**

In District 3, Beetee's sixteenth birthday occurred last week. He didn't do much, except stay home with his family. He doesn't take it for granted that he's alive to see another year of life…not after walking out as the sole survivor of the 39th Hunger Games. He knows it's that time of the year again…that time when the Hunger Games will be talked about as Reaping Day draws nearer.

He turns on the television in time to see his own Games play out and immediately turns it off. Living through the Games once was horrible enough. He doesn't have to relive it by seeing himself murder six other tributes. He did it so he could live—not for the joy of killing. Although the Capitol celebrates his smarts, he found no happiness in using his intelligence to destroy other people's lives.

Beetee decides to go for a walk in his District for the day. Leave the so-called Victors Village behind and see what else is going on in his home district. It will distract him from what's really pressing on mind: that the 40th Hunger Games will be the first Games where he has to act as a mentor.

 **oOo**

In Districts 5, 6 7, 9, 10, and 11, six families mourn the loss of their dead children. While the Capitol's excitement for the next Hunger Games spreads across all media outlets, these families will grieve the one year anniversary that their child was taken from them and killed in the 39th Hunger Games. Indeed, it is a new year…without their children, and it is the first of many to come.


	96. List

**96\. List**

 ** _A List of Every Act of Goodness_**

One day, Katniss decides to write a list posted of every act of goodness people do. People from her past and people from her present. She's rehearsed the list in her mind many times, but writing it down makes it more real and permeant. She makes sure to always carry the list with her, so that she can add to it. At first, she considers writing a list for the present time, while planning to reflect on all those who were good to her during her younger years—such as Finnick, Boggs, Seeder, Chaff, Mags, the female Morphling… Then she decides to write whoever's name comes to her—past and present. She can separate the two later, she just needs to start the list. Katniss writes the name of the person in dark print and then prints neatly:

 **Effie** – _Effie visits every year for Willow's and Rye's birthdays. She always brings gifts for the entire family and spends a month with Peeta and me, helping out with the kids. It's funny seeing her teaching the kids the colors of the rainbow. She says when Willow is older, she will teach her about fashion and etiquette._

 **Plutarch** – _Plutarch sent his congratulations to Peeta and me when he found out we were expectant parents. Every now and then, he sends us a greeting card reminding us not to be strangers._

 **Buttercup** – _Buttercup curls up next to Willow every night to keep her warm. Buttercup has also been responsible for killing the stray mice that badly frighten Rye. I'm glad I held onto that cat. Prim would be proud of Buttercup._

 **Haymitch** – _Haymitch lets Rye play with his geese and gave him one to keep. Rye named the goose "Mitch." Every so often, Haymitch will come and watch the kids play in the meadow with the geese._

 **Annie –** _Annie sends us pictures every year of little Noah. Finnick would be so happy of how big and handsome his son is getting. He looks just like his father._

 **Johanna** – _Every other year, Johanna visits us. She carved little wooden toys for the children to play with: a mockingjay, goat, cat, and dog. I never thought I'd see this tender side in Johanna. She says the kids remind her of her younger sister, Hazel, and older brother, Linden. She used to watch Hazel with Linden's help before being reaped for the Games._

 **Cressida and Pollux** – _Cressida and Pollux filmed a video of our children playing with the toys Johanna made them. They had a great time and told us they would return again to make more videos of the kids._

 **Enobaria** – _Enobaria paid us an unexpected visit one day. She was kind to Peeta, myself, and our kids by telling us funny stories about District 2. I never thought I'd be able to laugh with Enobaria, of all people._

 **Greasy Sae** – _Greasy Sae made hot soup for the entire family during a very bad winter that left us all very sick._

 **Beetee –** _Beetee is always a friend you can count on. He invited us to visit him in District 3, it was a nice break from District 12_.

 **Paylor –** _Paylor pardoned me after I assassinated Coin. Long after she has served two three year terms as Panem's president, Paylor still reaches out to Peeta and me, to see how we're doing, asks us if we need anything._

 **Gale –** _Although he isn't in my life anymore and hasn't been for years…I still remember him promising to watch over Mom and Prim when I went to the Games. I have to remember that although his darkness consumed him, he still was a good friend to me and my family before the war changed things forever._

 **Peeta –** _Peeta reminds me everyday that life can go on, that we can hope and love again. Peeta knows me better than everyone else. I can't hide my feelings from him and he wouldn't want me to. He is the reason I'm still here. For my birthday, he painted a beautiful portrait of Prim…it's in the living room._

Katniss drops her writing tool after writing the last name on her list and reflects on why he is so significant to her. From the first time they met and every moment since then, there are so many times where she didn't know what she would do if he didn't survive the arena, and later on, the war. How her life would be empty and meaningless without his strength, his ability to hope and overcome everything they've been through together.

Heavy tears flood her eyes and she cries for a long time. Her body shakes and her breaths come out in uneven gasps. Yet, she can't stop and the tears keep pouring forth.

She's crying so much that she barely hears Peeta entering their home. She can smell the scent of fresh baked bread as he drops it on the floor and rushes over to her. Before long, Peeta wraps his arms around her as she hears Willow and Rye surrounding them, their melodic voices ringing together as they repeat like a haunted mantra: _"Don't cry, Mommy, don't cry."_


	97. Hypocrisy

**97.** **Hypocrisy**

 ** _Censorship and Violence: The Capitol's Favorite Brand of Hypocrisy_**

The night before the Third Quarter Quell, Johanna Mason was given the opportunity to re-watch her interview with Caesar Flickerman. She broke down in hysterical laughter, much to Blight's amazement. There she is standing next to Flickerman, not hiding her sheer hatred. Her eyes are fixed in a permanent glare and her scowl is painted on her face for Panem to see. Feeling venomous towards the Capitol and all they've done to her and her family is second nature to her.

Johanna always spoke her mind, regardless of who was in front of her—District or Capitol citizen. By now, President Snow can't hurt her any more than he already has. He already killed her family for not giving into his ridiculous demands that she sell her body to the wealthiest Capitol citizens. Every living moment, Johanna remembered her family—so any time she has a chance to lash out against the Capitol, she runs with it like a track star determined to be first place in a marathon.

"We have seen a lot of tears here tonight, but I see no tears in Johanna's eyes. Johanna, you are angry. Tell me why."

On the expansive screen in their suite for District 7, Johanna watched herself as she rolls her eyes at Flickerman pretending to be unaware as to why she would be angry about being reaped for the Third Quarter Quell. As though he has no idea why she would be furious at having to go back to the Hunger Games a second time. Then again, he can't have any idea of what it is to have your life on the line for other entitled people's warped view of entertainment. It's not him forced to fight for his life on live television.

"Well, yes! I'm angry. You know, I'm getting totally screwed over here."

"Uh-huh."

 _He's still playing the dummy,_ Johanna thinks and she can feel the fury bubbling up inside her like a volcano about to erupt.

"The deal was that if I won the Hunger Games, I get to live the rest of my life in peace, but now, you wanna kill me again. But you know what? FUCK THIS! AND FUCK EVERYBODY THAT HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT!"

For the first time, Johanna clearly witnessed what happened after her outburst: the Capitol audience booed and jeered. Johanna shrugged while Blight looked at her in complete shock as though she had just signed her own death warrant.

"What, Blight?"

"That was—"

"Let those ditzy morons boo themselves into oblivion." She was glad she didn't hold back—there was no reason to do so. Flickerman couldn't do anything, the Capitol citizens could boo until their faces turned dark purple, and Snow had no power over her.

"All right, then. One woman's opinion."

Johanna was so angry that she missed Flickerman's off-handed remark. It didn't matter. Her anger had turned into laughter because of how funny the segment really was—and not because of her shooting straight from the heart or Flickerman pretending to be the diplomatic host.

The Capitol's sheer hypocrisy never ceased to amaze Johanna. They censored the word "fuck" by putting some lame bleeping noise over it. And then to top it off—the Capitol audience booed her? _Really?_ Johanna thinks as she watches the segment a second time. _The same sick audience that gets its thrills from watching teenagers kill each other year after year gets offended over a little cussing and then the producers censor me?! Fucking hypocrites!_ Johanna laughed louder at the immense idiocy of the entire situation—it's all she can do keep herself moving forward. Anger feeds her fierce spirit to keep fighting. She vowed to never integrate herself into the Capitol's machinery, or as Peeta Mellark phrased it: become a piece in the Capitol's Games.

 **oOo**

In District 13, Johanna watched on a large screen in the dining hall with other residents the events unfolding in the Capitol. She had been watching for the past hour along with Haymitch. There was a weird whistling sound and then the screen flashed showing: "MANDATORY VIEWING: ATTENTION ALL PANEM RESIDENTS". The Capitol symbol served as a backdrop. Then Flickerman's image was on the screen and Johanna rolled her eyes at his ridiculous pinkish lilac hair.

"Good afternoon, I'm Caesar Flickerman. Here's our continuing coverage of the defense of the Capitol. Today as our Peacekeepers valiantly hold off the rebels, our story takes a surprising twist."

The screen showed Katniss and the rebels running across a huge courtyard. They appeared to be running from something or someone. Then she saw the weird black liquid mass that was coming towards them like a tidal wave. Johanna thought it looked like an ocean of tar.

"Katniss Everdeen, our once favorite daughter, has infiltrated the city with some of the Victors whose names are all too familiar: Finnick Odair and Peeta Mellark."

Johanna watched as Peeta shoved a fellow Rebel away. She wasn't able to see the full extent of what happened to the Rebel that Peeta pushed down, but suddenly Finnick grabbed Peeta to restrain him and pulled him back.

"Hmm, clearly some alliances don't last forever." The glee in Flickerman's voice was unmistakable. "Take a look at what happened just a moment ago when our Peacekeepers cornered Katniss Everdeen and her band of foolish rebels. Whatever arrogance brought this treacherous girl back to us, you are about to witness a great victory, not only for the Capitol, but for Panem."

Just as Flickerman was finishing his statement, the screen switched to an image of several Peacekeepers surrounding a building. Gunfire erupted from one of the top windows and the Peacekeepers responded by shooting back. Moments later, the building exploded as bright red and orange flames consumed it, and the structure collapsed as black clouds of smoke billowed upwards and towards the camera, completely obscuring the view.

"So there you have it." Flickerman's smug tone never wavered. "Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, a girl who has inspired so much violence seems to have met a violent end herself. Stay tuned for more information, Caesar Flickerman. Thank you."

The screen went blank and District 13's residents glanced at each other, as though asking each other the unthinkable: could Katniss Everdeen be truly dead? Even Haymitch had a thoughtful expression on his face as he silently thought about what he had just seen. Only one person wasn't shocked.

Johanna scoffed. "Stay tuned for more hypocritical bullshit."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This ficlet was inspired by scenes from both movies The Hunger Games: Catching Fire and Mockingjay Part 2. Three more left!

 _ **-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


	98. Forgive

**98.** **Forgive **

**_Forgiveness, Forgetting, and Freedom_**

On a clear moonless night after the sun had set over District 12 and the black sky stretched across like a velvet blanket, Peeta asked Katniss a question that had been on his mind for years.

"Do you think it's possible to forgive the Capitol and President Snow for everything they've done?"

He stared at the stars in the sky, wondering how—and if—she would answer his question. Katniss sat next to him on the roof of their new home. They had been there for hours, watching the sunset because she knew he enjoyed watching the brilliant splash of colors that lit up the sky as the sun turned in for the night. And he knew how much she loved stargazing. She once called them "tiny diamonds".

Katniss shivered. It wasn't from the chill of the night air. The thought of forgiveness had never crossed her mind. "Why should we forgive them? The Capitol didn't forgive the Districts when they first rebelled. They created the Hunger Games as punishment."

"I know, but it's for ourselves, so that we can finally be free of everything we experienced."

Katniss said nothing. She felt afraid that forgiving the Capitol and President Snow equated to excusing them for their awful actions against the Districts. All those years when innocent kids were forced to fight to the death. Of course, Peeta is Peeta, so she's not too shocked that he suggested forgiveness, even after all this time.

"I don't think we'll ever be totally free of everything we experienced. Even if I forgive Snow, my nightmares will never end."

Peeta nodded. "That's true. You know I still have those flashbacks…"

His voice trailed off. Katniss knew he referred to the hijacking he experienced. They were quiet for a long time until Peeta asked another question.

"Have you thought of forgiving him?"

Katniss stared at him, unsure if she heard him right. "Forgive who?"

"Gale."

Katniss' jaw tightened. Peeta immediately knew he touched a topic that she would only discuss—if she brought it up first— which was _never_.

"For the—"

"I know what for," Katniss cut in. She didn't want Peeta to finish his sentence. After all this time, the thought of Gale still threw her in a tar pit of rage. She would remain stuck there until she processed her feelings. It would take all her energy to leave that state of mind.

"If not for you or him…then for Prim."

"For Prim." Katniss echoed the phrase and remembered the last time she stated those words. The meeting with Coin where she decided to assassinate the new president because Coin was no better than Snow. She was worse…

"It's for your freedom, Katniss, not his. He has to forgive himself; who knows if he has or if he ever will," Peeta said. "That's not your burden to bear, it's his. For your sake though, forgiving him would mean releasing yourself from the anger you've held against him all these years. Think about Prim, too. She would want you to forgive him. She loved Gale."

Katniss thought about it. After all this time, Peeta was the only one who could still talk to her on this intimate level. Peeta had the ability to reach her heart and hold it gently in his hands. His words reached her when others' fell flat. She knew Peeta was right.

Prim would want Katniss to forgive Gale.

She would tell Katniss that he didn't make the bomb on purpose with the intention of her getting killed. She would remind Katniss of all the times Gale helped protect and feed their family when she was in the Games. Most of all, she would help Katniss to see that Gale had been acting on the power that had been given to him after being powerless for so long—that Gale wasn't a monster. He let his rage get the best of him, and lost who he truly was during the war against the Capitol. He abandoned his morals and values for the sake of victory, but it was a victory stained with the innocent blood of others…

 _Don't hate him, Katniss._ Katniss could hear Prim's soft voice in her mind and it made her tremble _. For you, Prim, I'll try to forgive him…for you…_ She knew she had to speak it aloud to make it real, so that she could accept it was possible to feel this way. That it was okay.

"I will try to forgive him….for Prim…I don't know if I can forget what happened..."

"I'm not saying that you should forget what happened, Katniss, but that you should forgive him. They're two completely different things. Forgiving Gale does not absolve him from what happened, but it releases you. To forgive is to be free, Katniss. You'll never forget what happened and I would be wrong to even suggest or expect that from you. Letting go of the anger you have against him is forgiveness _._ Prim would want you to be free."

Free. Katniss felt free living her new life with Peeta after the war. Being out of the Capitol's limelight gave her the opportunity to be herself again. Not "The Girl on Fire", but just Katniss Everdeen. It gave her the freedom to go hunting in the woods whenever she wanted, to live a quiet life in her home district. And mostly, to be with Peeta without everyone watching her and his every move and kiss, and listening in on every conversation.

"Go find him and tell him so. He's in District 2."

"'Go _find_ him'?" Katniss shot Peeta a long look. "What's with all these demands tonight?"

"It's just a thought, but in the end, it's up to you. It may clear up your soul, allow some sunshine to peek through."

Peeta got up and left the roof, leaving Katniss to consider the idea of actually going to District 2 to find Gale Hawthorne to tell him she forgave him for the bomb that killed Prim more than ten years ago.


	99. Regret

**99.** **Regret **

**_A Lifetime of Regret_  
**

Some days are longer and lonelier than others in District 2. After living for more than ten years in the most militaristic district, Gale had adjusted to the tightly structured atmosphere that demanded everything from him. However, he never adjusted to the loneliness of living without his former best friend and first and only love, Katniss Everdeen.

Sometimes he went home after a long day's work. Other times, he walked around District 2 aimlessly, until he was too tired and he'd return home. No matter how much time had passed, it always felt strange to come to a home filled with silence. He had no little siblings to look after in District 2; they had chosen to remain in District 13. His mother died two years ago and that was the only time he returned there. A brief funeral, a eulogy read by his younger sister, Posy, and then he was back in District 2 before the week was over. He thought he saw Katniss there, but maybe he had imagined her long braid and gray eyes that mirrored his.

Another time, he thought he saw her walking down the street in the public square. The woman looked lost, as though she was searching for someone. She had a pensive expression on her face. This woman with a long braid stared at him and took a few steps towards him. His gray met hers and he instantly recognized the Seam eyes as belonging to none other than Katniss Everdeen. Then the woman turned around quickly. He started to go after her and almost called out to her…and then stopped himself.

It wasn't her. It couldn't have been her. He didn't know for sure. Even if it was her…would Katniss acknowledge him? What would he say to her after all this time and how would she react? Would she greet him? Embrace him? Ignore him? Spit on him? Yell at him? Gale didn't want to know or find out. He knew exactly which words started them on two different directions although their goal of peace for Panem and freedom for the Districts were the same.

 _"_ _I would sacrifice a few, yes, to take out the rest of them."_

Gale believed sacrifice was necessary and unavoidable. It was a war, there would be casualties. He viewed his outlook as realistic, but he also felt constant fury for the destruction the Capitol had caused: the Hunger Games, burning District 12 to the ground—his only true home. Hearing the screams of his fellow residents and knowing at the time that he couldn't do anything about it lit a fire of vengeance inside him.

It still caused a divide between him and Katniss that he would come to regret much later. Before the war, Gale didn't regret anything. After the war, he regretted many things. He regretted not volunteering in Peeta's place the first time Katniss went to the Games. He regretted stating those words to her when they were in the Nut. He regretted working together with Beetee and devising the bomb that killed Prim.

Prim…

The day Prim died, his friendship with Katniss died. At the exact moment he found out that Prim was dead, he knew Katniss would never forgive him. Not after their conversations about the war that showed how different they were. Or how he came up with the idea of creating a death trap that killed victims and then the rescuers after. He never imagined that Prim would be one of the "rescuers" in that equation, that she would be one of the sacrifices made to bring down the Capitol.

He admitted that he didn't agree with how Katniss viewed the situation. At the time, he wasn't worried about killing innocents. Katniss was, and it was only after Prim's death that Gale reflected on why Katniss felt torn about killing innocent people: _she had been forced to do that in the Games to survive. She didn't want more blood on her hands._

There were moments where Gale wondered if Katniss held Beetee responsible for the bomb that killed Prim. Did she feel anger towards him for his role? Beetee created the bomb as it was his expertise. Gale was involved, but he didn't do it by himself, nor did he drop it on Capitol citizens. Plutarch had to have known what was going on, too, since he was involved in the war efforts from District 13. Did she know that Gale didn't put Prim in harm's way? That was Coin's orders. However, his relationship with Katniss was different from all of them.

 _I was the closest one to her. I was her best friend._

 _Was…_

Gale had been the closest to Katniss and he knew from that moment when she asked: _was it your bomb?_ – Katniss would never be able to separate Prim's death from him. He remembered how she had looked at him: disbelief, sadness, and shock. From that instant, things would never be the same again between them. He remembered again that it was his strategy to set off a group of bombs, wait for more people to arrive and help, and then a second bomb would go off, killing more people.

Gale had no way of knowing Prim would be killed and the worst part was that he had always tried to protect her for Katniss' sake. Of course, he loved Prim, and he especially loved Katniss. He would've done anything to keep them safe and ensure they survived. In a matter of seconds, Prim's life was over and his connection with Katniss was severed. The bomb seemed to undo everything he had ever done for Katniss' family. Ensuring the Everdeen family was well-fed and safe during Katniss' times in the Hunger Games. Getting Prim, Mrs. Everdeen, and Buttercup to safety after the Capitol firebombed District 12. He wished that one terrible act that he had no control over wouldn't overshadow all the good he had done for Katniss.

Gale grieved that he lost himself to the war, and yet, the loss of his friendship with Katniss has caused an unbearable emptiness that increased as time trudged on and life crawled by. He wanted for Katniss to forgive him, and yet, he knew he had to forgive himself—he didn't think that would ever happen. Others—Beetee, Plutarch, Coin—they were involved, but in the end, Katniss had focused on him, knowing that he had supported Coin, his thought process about the war, and his involvement with the bomb. Every day he reflected on his losses, struggled to forgive himself, but regret was still there taunting him. A lifelong self-inflicted punishment. He hoped one day to not be full of regret and figured that day would only come when it was his last day alive.


	100. Memory

**100.** **Memory**

 ** _Twenty-Three Years of Tributes_**

Katniss heard the door open to her home in the Victor Village. She remembered Haymitch told her he'd stop by today, so she and Peeta were expecting him. It was strange, considering Haymitch rarely stopped by, and whenever he did he'd just show up. He never told her ahead of time.

"I'm here," Haymitch announced. "Just me and my memories." He entered their living room and plopped down on the sofa.

Katniss noticed Haymitch carried a large photo album. Peeta came in, wiping his powdery hands on an apron. He had just finished putting fresh bread into the oven. They sat across from Haymitch in the loveseat.

"I have to show you something…you can add this to your book." He pointed at the album. A layer of dust covered the exterior; it hadn't seen the light of day in many years. "Go ahead, open it up and take a look."

Peeta opened the album and flipped through the pages. He noted the youthfulness of those in the pictures: young boys and girls, ages twelve through eighteen. Katniss noticed his eyebrows were slightly raised, indicating his curiosity. Then his expression softened. "Are these your…?"

"Former tributes," Haymitch finished for him. He took a long drink from his flask. "From all twenty-three years, all forty-six of them…before I had the fortune to meet you two. All forty-six are…" He didn't have to finish his sentence. Both Peeta and Katniss exchanged a knowing glance.

 _All forty-six of them are dead_ ; Peeta and Katniss thought to themselves.

"Sweetheart, do you remember what I told you before you boarded the hovercraft for your first Games?"

Katniss thought it over, uncertain. Peeta looked perplexed. He knew it was something between them. "No…refresh my memory."

"Let me tell you a story about my second year as a mentor," Haymitch said. "I was eighteen years old. These were my second set of tributes; I believe their names were Crescent and Aster…if memory serves me right. Crescent was terrified at the prospect of being reaped for the Games, Aster not so much."

Katniss and Peeta listened intensely.

Haymitch pointed out the young boy with reddish-brown hair, gray Seam eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his face. "Crescent was twelve years old, he was a nice kid, but so young. Aster was seventeen years old and rough around the edges. Since I was only a year older than her, there wasn't much I could say to her—I tried, but she didn't listen. Now you have to understand that this was my second time mentoring and there were certain things I didn't learn until the 52nd Hunger Games."

"Such as what, Haymitch?" Peeta asked.

Haymitch held up a pointer finger, indicating for Peeta to hold on one moment, while he took another drink from his flask. He placed the cap on in a very slow manner as though putting off what he was about to share with them. "I found out that if you step off the pedestal before the countdown is over…they blow you sky high."

Katniss' eyes widened in recognition. "I remember now. You were telling me not to go to the Cornucopia because they put weapons there to lure you into the bloodbath. You said to search for water and to not get off the pedestal before the countdown…"

Haymitch shrugged, feigning indifference. Katniss and Peeta knew Haymitch well enough to know he was trying not to reveal how much the memory still affected him, even after all these years.

"I'm sure it happened before my Games to another tribute. It's just Crescent was a tiny thing, like Rue. He was afraid and I was afraid for him too, but I couldn't show that. So I did my best to mentor him, to prepare him. But let's face it; you can't really prepare anyone for the Games. Anyway, he enters the arena and the countdown begins, the number was on thirteen or twelve—I don't remember which—when he stepped off and the pedestal exploded. Blood and body parts rained down…" He shook his head in disbelief, as though he still couldn't believe the horrible sight he had witnessed over twenty years ago. "Some splattered on the nearby tributes on the pedestals closest to his. It was the most awful sight."

Haymitch stared at the floor and sighed. He covered his eyes briefly and leaned back against the sofa, stuck in his awful memories of seeing his own tribute get blown apart. Katniss and Peeta were somber as they gave him time to reflect on his fallen tribute.

"To this day, I wonder if he did it on purpose," Haymitch finished. "I know it sounds crazy," he quickly added as he faced them now. "If it was a suicidal gesture, it wouldn't surprise me."

A long period of silence passed between Haymitch, Katniss and Peeta. Their silence was their own way to give respect to all the tributes that never made it out of the arena alive. Eventually, Haymitch started talking again and shared stories about all his tributes throughout the years. He remembered all their names and ages, their strengths, their weaknesses, the manner in which each of them died, and how every year he wanted to quit being a mentor.

"My fifth year mentoring…" Haymitch flipped the pages to show a boy, fifteen years of age, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes, whose expression was a combination of mischief and annoyance. "Slate had a mind of his own, but he took my advice: he stayed alive. He didn't get off the pedestal until the countdown was over and he found water. That year, the arena was a desert and water was scarce. He was one of final two tributes standing. Slate was exhausted and on his last legs. A Career tribute from District 2, Jagger, managed to overpower him and slit his throat." He shook his head. "And that's how it was, year after year, hoping that one of my tributes would walk out alive, but after the seventh or eighth year, I knew what to expect—yes, I know that's terrible, but that's what happened. It became routine to see kids get reaped, go on the train to the Capitol, train, interview, sent out to the Games, and return on the train to District 12...accompanying me in their wooden boxes…until you two came along." At this, Haymitch genuinely smiled. "You both broke my losing streak."

"That's an interesting way of seeing it," Peeta said.

"To say the least," Katniss added. "I'm glad we broke it, Haymitch." She tried not to imagine what it would've been like for Haymitch to return to District 12 from the 74th Hunger Games with both her and Peeta's bodies in separate coffins...the only "company" for their mentor...if they had been killed in the arena.

"Me too, sweetheart," Haymitch paused to take another sip. "Me too."

For the next three hours, Haymitch gave voice to his deceased tributes while Katniss and Peeta listened. They knew it was healing for him to openly talk about and grieve the youth who he had mentored. When he finished, Katniss checked to make sure there was enough pages for all their memories to be preserved and Peeta agreed to start working on their portraits first thing tomorrow morning.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** At long last, this fic is finished. I've been wanting to write more Hunger Games fanfic for a long time and the LJ prompt challenge satisfied my HG fix. Due to the amount of prompts and the length of time it took to write and post them, I'm relieved that this collection is now complete. Thank you for taking the time to read my stories. Your time is valuable and I appreciate the time you gave to this collection of ficlets. It means a lot to me. I also want to thank those who took the time to review. Knowing what readers liked/didn't like, what worked/didn't work, enjoyed/didn't enjoy, positive feedback, constructive criticism, even disagreement on how I portrayed the characters-I appreciate all of it. I like to respond to my reviewers, so if you left a review as a guest and have an account on FFN, feel free to message me anytime. I promise I don't bite! Thank you again, everyone, and God bless! _ **-Sassy Lil Scorpio**_


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